Project Red Code Freelancer
by regenengel3
Summary: Marlene White was a doctor. Agent Oregon was a solder. Agent Black... is a Phantom. Watch out Freelancer, Agent Black is coming for you, and she has a Project of her own. Mostly follows the show but eventually becomes wildly AU.
1. Episode 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Red Vs. Blue. Or Halo. Or Naruto. Or... a lot of things.

Warnings: OOCness. That is all.

 **Episode 1:** Agents Black and Orange

Marlene White was a doctor. She was an excellent doctor, an army doctor. She was arguably the best battlefield surgeon on the planet Sargino. Dr. White had a burning passion. A passion for medicine and helping others. At a frozen base, far from all she had known, Dr. Marlene White was killed in a hail of bullets and needler shots.

/*/

Agent Oregon was soldier. Agent Oregon was an excellent soldier. Mission after mission she ran, only rarely losing a member of her team. She was one of the first soldiers of Project Freelancer, and was assigned to The Valiant. Over the three years she spent on The Valiant, other Agents would surpass Agent Oregon, The Mother of Invention would overtake The Valiant on the grand leader board, but Agent Oregon didn't mind that at all. She did well enough in the field that she wasn't booted out of the Project but not so well that she drew the attention of the Director. Something was off about him, she could just feel it! Despite her apparently lackluster skills, Oregon was well liked by the Agents that passed through The Valiant's halls. It came as a great shock to everyone when she vanished, her armor going completely off the grid. She was declared MIA after a week and considered KIA after a year, though York swore she had sent him a message during his match with Texas, not that it helped much, he had still been in the blast radius after all, but it was a sign that maybe she wasn't as gone as the Director thought.

/*/

Agent Black is a ghost. A phantom on the edge of sight. The blur on your visor that no matter what you try, you can't seem to pin down. The name 'Black' came from it's armor, the 'Agent' part came from the theories surrounding the Freelancer Hunter's origin. Anyone who heard of Agent Black shivered in fear at the name, and they had every right to. The trail of broken and bloody bodies of the dead or dying left by the Hunter was chilling. However, Agent Black had specific targets, specific criteria for her corpses. She made her other 'victims' into phantoms. For every phantom that she made, however; she felt just a little more strained. A little more alone. Those other phantoms were tired, so tired, of all the pointless fighting, of being test subjects for a sad, twisted man's experiments. Most just wanted _out,_ and for those who didn't... they didn't find her path all that appealing. For every suit of Freelancer armor that got blasted, another phantom fled into the cold, dark, void of space, hiding from anything and everything. And everyone.

/*/

It was a slow day in Blood Gulch. A perfect day in Private Dexter Grif's opinion. Or, at least, it was until this crazy woman in black armor showed up, yelled, 'Yoink!' and dragged him onto her ship. Now, for most men, that wouldn't be such a big deal, but this was Private Dexter Grif, Professional Slacker. Being dragged, literally, out of a nap wasn't exactly his idea of a good time. That involved a lot more food and a lot less noise. "Man, don't you run maintenance on this thing at all?" he asked over the roar of the engines. The woman flying the ship laughed before coming back into the 'seating' area of the Pelican and taking the seat opposite him. He took the time to take in her armor. It was looked more or less standard, if a bit more streamlined, except for her helmet. It was rounder, with no visor, and a larger HUD. Everything was black, except for her visor, which glowed the familiar orange.

"You offering to work on my ship, Private Grif?" she asked, tilting her helmet in that special way that put you in mind of a teasing friend or playful aunt and drawing him back to the situation at hand. Grif noted dimly that she had a deep, rolling kind of voice, the kind you attribute to a radio DJ rather than a soldier. "Alright, enough playing. Private Grif, you joined the military because of a one-man draft, right?" she asked, suddenly serious. He nodded back, responding in kind.

"That's right Ma'am," he said. It was a little odd, how this woman was effecting him. Almost like when other kids' mothers would tell them to do something. He didn't know where this was going, why this crazy lady had picked _him_ , of all people, but she was asking questions. He could handle questions. Most of the time. Math was for Simmons.

"Well, consider this the follow up to that draft, Private Grif," the woman said in clipped tones. She pushed a button and a holograph showed up. "I need help on a special mission, and someone I hold in the same regards as myself suggested you. I sure hope you're as good as she said, otherwise... you just might die." ' _WHOA! Wait a minute_ ,' Grif's mind yelled, grinding to a halt and repeating those last four words.

"DIE!?" he shrieked. Yeah, that's right. He shrieked. He felt no shame admitting it. This was some serious stuff, and he felt completely justified in his response. The woman nodded and Grif realized, he didn't know her name. "Let's get this straight lady, I'm not taking orders from someone who won't even give me the curtsey of a name," he said, sitting back with crossed arms. It wasn't the best rebuttal, but hey, he was strapped for time. Grif thought she smirked, but that was just speculation. She still had her helmet on after all.

"My name... well. I have a few. But you might, _might_ , know me as Agent Black," she said. Grif blinked, wondering why that name seemed familiar, when suddenly he felt like Sarge had just punched him in the gut as stories from Basic returned to him. Stories about a Freelancer Hunter in black armor. Popular opinion was this Hunter was so good at what he did because he was a failed super solider. That was why he was also referred to as Agent Black.

"The Freelancer Hunter?" he asked. That black – how had he not put it together?! – helmet tilted in the way Grif interpreted as a quirked eyebrow.

"The Freelancer Hunter? Huh. I didn't know they added to my name. Still, it's not completely wrong. I do go after Freelancers, but it's not to _kill_ them, even if some do end up dead. I go after Freelancers in an attempt to _save_ them. Some are beyond redemption, but others are just... stuck. Or scared. I try to help, to turn their energies toward something a little more productive. Which brings me back to the reason I came and picked you up. I need back up for a mission, and like I said, you were recommended. So here we are," she said. Grif blinked at the big ol' speech she'd just given him, but one thing really stuck out.

"Who recommended me? And _why_? I've only been out of basic for a month!" he protested. Agent Black chuckled.

"Well... that's where it gets complicated," she said. "And classified," she added when he leaned forward expectantly. He pouted behind his helmet, glad it hid his face. He was pretty sure Agent Black would break his nose if she could see him. He had a feeling she was smirking at him, so he slumped back, sulking. She sighed. "Pri... Dexter," she began, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees and drawing his attention "I know it's confusing, but know this:" she said, her visor suddenly turning clear so he could see her face and her intensely focused eyes as they stared into his visor, "I wouldn't have acted on that recommendation if I didn't believe you could handle this mission," she finished. She was so serious, so sincere, in her belief that Grif felt like someone had grabbed his heart and squeezed, then shoved an Oreo down his throat. No-one had _ever_ looked at him like that. No-one had ever _trusted_ him to such an extent. It was getting hard to breath. His helmet felt too heavy, too close... it was too much. He ripped his helmet off, dropping it to the floor with a loud _clang_.

/*/

Marlene hadn't known what she was expecting when Grif ripped his helmet off, but she was pretty sure it wasn't this. Grif was young. Not super young, but it was obvious he had just gotten out of basic. If Marlene had to guess, she'd say he was either nineteen or twenty. He was clean shaven, darkly tanned, and had eyes that turned up naturally a little at the corner. He was Hawaiian, she was sure of it, but probably not purely Hawaiian. Probably about three fourths. His father was probably half Hawaiian half... something a good bit more northern. His nose wasn't as wide and his hair was more brown than black. All this was taken in in a moment, and then she sighed and laid her hand on his back, rubbing what she hoped were calming circles on the small portion of under-suit she could reach. "Dex... look at me Dex," she said, soft and gentle, hoping to draw him out of what looked like a panic attack. She understood getting a panic attack from what she had asked of him... but the declaration that he might very well die hadn't been what set him off. It was when she had expressed complete faith in him. This troubled her... but it also was rather encouraging. She wondered if she'd just found her ideal motivator. Recognition, acceptance, and trust. Thinking over what she knew of the man, it was quite possible he'd been starved for positive reinforcement all his life.

"How can you have such faith in me?" the Private asked, head still down, eyes still screwed shut. Marlene sighed, drawing him into an embrace. So, she was right. Part of his attitude came from being constantly put down, possibly even since childhood.

"Because, I knew a Grif once. He was a good man. Lazy, rude, and a total slob, but a good man. A good captain. He helped end a civil war, giving hope and strength to young, inexperienced soldiers. And I know... you have the potential to be just as awesome as Captain Grif. You just need a bit of a push," she said, manipulating the truth a bit. It wouldn't do for her to tip her hand just yet. One didn't live through Freelancer without learning the strength, power, and value of secrets. The orange armored soldier gave a shaky laugh, bringing her out of her musings.

"Yeah. Sorry to disappoint, Agent Black," he said. Marlene shook her head.

"You don't have to be amazing all the time, Dex. When I drop you off back at Blood Gulch, you can go back to being the lazy, disorganized, slacker of the team. I don't care what you do there. Consider it your shore leave. But when you're with me... I expect your very best," she said, standing up and blanking our her visor once more.

"Prepare to be underwhelmed, Agent Black," Grif said, unmoving. Marlene shook her head, already heading back to the cockpit.

"On this ship, call me Marley," she said, smiling to herself.

"Uh, okay... Marley. Then you can... keep calling me Dex," Grif said awkwardly, as though he was unused to giving permission for people to use his first name. She turned around fully, clearing her visor once more and smiling at the young man, more of a boy really.

"Wonderful! But in the field, call me either Agent Black or just Black," she said, holding out a hand. "Welcome to The Ghost, Dex." He nodded and accepted her hand.

"What's my field name, Marley?" he asked once he was back on his feet. She grinned at him in a vaguely evil manner.

"Agent Orange of course," she said. He started at her, blinked, then shocked her by jumping for joy shouting,

"Finally! Someone finally sees that it's _orange_ not yellow!" Marlene shook her head. She had picked up a crazy one, that was for sure. A grin tugged at her lips. He was crazy, but he was her crazy. For the time being anyway.

"Now, I do have a few rules," she said, interrupting his jumping. Grif pouted at her, but stilled and listened intently. "Try to refrain from cursing on my ship. Unless you're blooding from a gunshot wound. Then you can scream bloody murder until I tell you to shut up. You do as I say, when I say it, and not a moment later, got it?" she said, staring the man down. He nodded quickly, sitting back down, and Marlene nodded. "And now, the mission," she said, settling back as well.

/*/

Grif found himself revising his opinion of the day after the mission briefing. It wasn't the best, but it wasn't all that bad. Sure Marley had scared him, probably scarred him for life, and was now dragging him on a mission to blow up an alien base that could easily result in him dying, but she was pretty cool. And hot. There was just no way around it. She was one beautiful lady, even if she had to be at least twice his age. She had ear length auburn hair, blue-green eyes like the ocean, and skin the color of fine sand. And he should know. He lived by the beach after all. Or, he had, before he was drafted and shipped off planet. Still. Marley saw his armor was orange, knew _and_ remembered his name, and actually thought he could amount to something. If he had been just a little more simple, he would have already labeled her as his best friend. But Dex wasn't simple, not really. He just didn't test well. Or care. He had been drafted after all, it hadn't been his choice. So, while he knew he'd probably hate Agent Black by the time he got back to Blood Gulch, he couldn't help feeling a little grateful that she'd gotten him out of there. He sighed and looked over his equipment one more time, idly wishing he had paid more attention in class. "We should be entering the landing zone in half an hour Dex. Need any help?" Marley asked, dropping down next to him. He shook his head, still trying to make sure everything was good. Marley shook her head and took the pack from his hands. "Dude, stop. Whoever taught you how to do this failed. Miserably," she said, and then proceeded to give him a thirty minute crash course in weapons maintenance. The ship touched down and the two soldiers, Agents, geared up.

"Thanks. For helping me," Agent Orange said as they made their way off the ship. Agent Black chuckled.

"No problem, Agent Orange. As a wise man once said, 'those who break the rules are trash, but those who abandon their friends are worse than trash,'" she said. Dex blinked, then grinned behind his visor.

"Good words to live by, Black," he said. She chuckled and clapped him on the back.

"Ready to blow some junk up and kill some aliens?" she asked. Dex, Agent Orange, chuckled back and raised his assault rifle.

"Heck yeah," he said. Nodding, Agent Black faded out of view and the mission was under way.

/*/

Agent Black laughed with wild abandon as she mowed her way through the advancing hoard, cutting a path toward the aliens' base. "AH! Hahahaha~! Eat some, eat some! Ah! Hahahaha!" she screamed between evil cackles. Her partner, Agent Orange, screamed in terror as he shot wildly.

"I don't want to die!" he screamed, shooting a grunt dead center in the forehead. Black, somehow seeing the shot, whistled.

"Nice shot there Orange! We'll make an Agent out of you yet!" she called happily, noting that Orange was actually pretty good with his gun even if he hadn't put much effort into learning how to use and care for it.

"You're insane!" the man yelled at her, landing another amazing shot. The Jackal he'd hit squawked and ran toward him while he was engaging a grunt.

"On your six!" Black informed him, kicking a Skirmisher in the face as she ran up him before flipping and shooting at a knot of Grunts behind her.

"What is that thing?!" Orange yelled, pointing his gun at a large craft coming toward them. It clearly wasn't of human craftsmanship, so Black gave the obvious answer.

"I don't know! Shoot it!" Orange followed the order, but the ship still disgorged a battalion of Sanghelli Elites. Black was fairly sure there were a few brutes and Hunters in the mix as well. She grinned and picked up a plasma rifle, absentmindedly checking the clip. More than half full. She smirked. "This'll be fun," she remarked before running up a nearby rock formation and 'sniping' the enemy.

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! I HATE YOU BLACK!" Orange wailed as he found himself alone in a valley full of angry aliens with really big guns. Black smirked under her helmet.

"You'll thank me later! Now shoot that purple thingy in the sky! Make it go boom!" she ordered, pointing out a Banshee.

"You're truly insane!" Orange yelled back, shooting at a shield bearing enemy.

"Less yelly more shooty!" Black sang back, shooting more or less indiscriminately into the fray, forcing Orange to dodge her blasts.

"Those aren't even real words!" he contested, voice beginning to show signs of stress. Black rolled her eyes and put the rifle away, shifting to her mid range weapon, and jumped back down to the valley floor. Once she hit, she rolled to come up at Orange's back. The fighting was thick and fierce, but Black noticed that Orange's aim was actually getting better. Sure he'd made some nice head shots before, but that was about every two out of ten. Now, he was getting four head shots out of ten. That was when she made the mistake of shooting a Grunt point blank.

"Ugh! Alien slime! In my gun!" she sneered. Orange chuckled, actually _chuckled,_ at her.

"Karma's a bitch!" he shouted breathlessly, beginning to tire. Black smirked viciously. Her secondary mission objective appeared to have been accomplished. Seemed a high-stakes mission was just what Orange needed to get his blood pumping.

/*/

"I*pantpant*hate*wheezegasp*you*gasppant*BLACK*coughwheezepant*!" Agent Orange complained, sprawled out on the cold floor of The Ghost. Agent Black chuckled at her press-ganged partner. He'd done well, even got more than a few head shots in. To be honest, he'd surprised her. While in no way skilled, he had some talent, if not a lot. She had a feeling, with a bit of a push, he could be greater than he was ever portrayed in the visions.

"Ah come on Orange! It wasn't that bad, was it?" she asked, getting to to fetch her special med kit. Agent Orange brought shaking hands up to pry his helmet off. Dex glared after his kidnapper.

"Yes. It was," he said. Agent Black chuckled.

"Aw~! Look at that! That was a full sentence! And you didn't gasp or wheeze once! You're feeling better already!" she said, far too cheerful. Dex continued to glare.

"No. I'm not. Short sentence, easier," he said. Agent Black laughed, still rummaging around for her kit.

"Oh, I think you are. You're fresh out of basic right? This should have been a breeze for you! Aha!" she said, finally locating the large red tool box that held her medical supplies.

"You... are... a sadist," Dex moaned, his head falling back to rest on the cold metal once again. Black took off her helmet and pulled out the disinfectant.

"Now, now. I find that to be highly exaggerated. I'm a soldier, not a torturer. Oh and, kindly remove your chest plate, Dex. I'd like to take care of what injuries you may have acquired over the course of this mission," she said. Dex muttered darkly, Marley was sure she heard 'may,' 'who,' 'torturer,' 'dalmatian,' and 'my foot,' in there somewhere. She steadfastly ignored him. Once the armor was out of the way, Dex was quickly patched up while his armor seemingly vanished. Not much later, Dex was passed out and Marley was feeling rather accomplished. It was a low priority mission, but Dex had done really well for such a raw recruit. She didn't really want to return him, but she knew she had to. Blood Gulch needed him, and she wasn't going to be the one to deprive them of their Grif. When his armor was fully repaired, she lined it up neatly by his cot for him to don when he woke.

/*/

When he woke up, Dex saw the perfectly repaired and re-painted armor and smiled. "I guess I can forgive you, Marley," he said quietly as he put it back on.

"Coming up on Blood Gulch Outpost One, Dex. You ready to return to your official post?" Marley called from the cockpit. Dex shook his head and made his way to the co-pilot seat.

"Do you have cybernetic implants in your ears or something?" he asked, sinking into the seat. Marley chuckled.

"Nah. Just highly trained in picking up the lightest of sounds. Helps a lot in the secret agent business, especially if you want to stay secret," she said. Grif watched as her hands flew over the controls of the ship. He didn't even know what kind of ship it was, but he knew it was a lot more complicated than any jeep he'd ever driven. "I could teach you some other time, if you'd like," Marley said, noticing his attention on her hands. Dex had forgone his helmet. He smiled up at her.

"I'd like that. Never know when you're gonna need to fly a ship, am I right?" he asked. Marley beamed.

"Just got to say, I like it when men get proactive. Don't get me wrong, kicking back and being lazy is all well and good but... soldiers on duty need to be active, not passive. Get my drift?" she said. Dex thought it over.

"Yeah. I think... I think I like myself better this way, to be honest." Marley chuckled.

"Good for you. Just remember, you can rest in Blood Gulch." Dex gave her a lazy half salute and put his helmet on.

"But of course!" he said, allowing himself a cocky grin in her direction. With the helmet on, she wouldn't be able to tell. Then again, she had an uncanny ability to know what expression you were wearing, or what you were thinking. He had a feeling it would get rather annoying after a while.

"Take care Dex. See you... when I see you," Marley said, opening the back door. Dex nodded.

"Take care yourself, you're the one living in space," he said and hopped out before Marley could say anything back. Landing back in Blood Gulch, Dex felt as though he were jumping back into his old life. But even if he was, one thing was for sure, a part of him would always be Dex. He watched Marley fly away, one hand raised in good bye, until her ship flickered out of sight and he returned to his shady napping spot. As he sank down to the ground, he sighed. 'Base sweet base,' he thought, relaxing like he hadn't back on The Ghost. He closed his eyes and didn't think about anything, just for a moment, before his mind went back to the thirty minute lesson Marley had given him. With a slight jolt, he realized he hadn't cleaned his gun after the mission. He sat up and crossed his legs, pulling out his... spotlessly clean rifle? He chuckled and shook his head before checking the clip. It was full. He shook his head again before leaning against the tree and running back over that thirty minute lesson. He had no idea when Agent Orange might be needed again, but when he was, he was going to be ready.

/?/

A/N: Sooo... yeah. Grif now has an alter ego. And secretly isn't lazy. And he... is only the beginning.

A/N 2: This chapter has been edited for continuity and pacing purposes. I'm actually a little embarrassed that I posted it the way it was before. It was all over the place! Ugh. That's what you get for writing and then leaving a chapter until just before you want to post it and not going back over it twenty times with a fine toothed comb.


	2. Episode 2

Disclaimer: Still don't own.

 **Episode 2:** The Second Mission

After searching most of the day, Sarge found his missing soldier snoozing against a tree, rifle held loosely in his hands on top of his crossed legs. Pausing briefly to consider how uncomfortable that position must be, Sarge bellowed, "Grif! Stop lazing about! Them dirty Blues are up to something!" Grif jerked, rifle falling off his lap, before he groaned and stood up.

"Are they now? Well isn't that just horrible," he said, trudging off toward the base. Sarge shook his head at the Private's attitude.

"The Blues don't have to deal with this," the Sargent muttered before running after his soldier. He quickly outstripped the ambling man. "Double time soldier!" he shouted.

"Ya know, it's not as though there's anything _urgent_ to do in this place. Why tire yourself out running in this heat?" Grif remarked, making no move to catch up with his CO. Sarge scoffed.

"Fighting the Blues _is_ urgent Private Grif!" he countered. He heard Grif sigh and could just picture him hanging his head and slowly shaking it at the statement.

"Of course you'd think that," the younger man muttered. Not long after that, they were greeted at the ramp to the roof by Simmons.

"Hello Sarge! How are you today sir?" he asked cheerfully, completely ignoring Grif.

"Suck up," Grif muttered, sulking in the corner.

"Slacker!" Simmons countered. Grif snorted, looking away and toward Sarge.

"So. Why are we here?" the orange soldier asked, forcing the older man to acknowledge his presence.

"Glad you asked! We're going to blow up Blue Base!" Sarge declared proudly. Grif sighed.

"Oh. Right. Blue base. Sure," he groused, then slouched back inside.

"Where are you going, Private!" Sarge bellowed after him.

"To see if we have any C-4!" Grif called back, surprising his two teammates with his initiative.

/*/

"Crazy Sargent. Schmoozer Simmons. Five minutes. Just blew up a base," Grif muttered angrily as he stalked through the storeroom of the base. No C-4. Not even a box of grenades. "How are we supposed to blow up a base with no explosives?" the young man asked. He sighed. "Why are we even here?! What are we doing?! Why are we fighting?! It doesn't make any sense!" He sighed again and sat down. "Ya know what? There is no point. So, I don't really have to do this. I already have a reputation for being a slacker, and here in Blood Gulch, I have no reason to change that. Fudge it, I'm not helping blow up a base that has no point and houses soldiers I have no real beef with," he decided, and took an extra five minutes to just relax before he started making a mental inventory. This would serve three purposes: letting him know what they have, where everything is, and train his memory. It was perfect. At least, it was for him. He discovered that they had more ammo for Sarge's shotgun than for their rifles or side arms, along with a musty smelling punching bag and a single crate of bandages. He scoffed. "We are so dead," he muttered, looking at the truly pathetic assortment of medical supplies they had at their disposal. He made a mental note to add bandages, antiseptic, and painkillers to the supply list. "I wonder if Marly would mind teaching me some first aid. Supplies don't really help if you don't know how to use them," he mused aloud before shaking his head and continuing his tour through the storeroom. "Ho? What's this?" he wondered, picking up a long pole with thicker portions at each end. He must have hit a button somewhere on the haft because the ends suddenly started to hum with energy. "Oh ho, yeah! That's pretty cool!" Grif exclaimed, twirling the staff around a few times as he'd been taught when his father had forced him to attend Kapu Kuialua lessons. He found the power button and deactivated the weapon, but made a note of where it was stored for future reference. He rather preferred a staff over a knife for close combat. Once he was done combing the storeroom, Grif returned to Sarge with the sad tides that they had no explosives.

/*/

Sarge wasn't happy about the lack of explosives. Or Grif's disinterest in the whole thing. And, of course, their plan failed. Completely. Due in no small part to their total lack of explosives. Of course, after the failure, Grif took the fall. Through it all, he just stood. Simmons watched him carefully through out it all, wincing slightly as Sarge's voice got louder and louder. This was the worst dressing down he'd ever heard Sarge give, to anyone. The Sargent was throwing verbal knives at Grif, and yet the man just stood there and took it. The more Simmons watched him, the more he felt there was something off about Grif. Something the maroon soldier couldn't pin down. And he wasn't sure if it was a good thing. Of course, he couldn't tell if it were a _bad_ thing either, so he decided to let it lay for the time being. Simmons' eyes were drawn to Grif's tightening fist. For a moment, he actually thought the other man might try to deck Sarge, but then Grif just turned on his heel and walked away. He may be a lazy slob, but Simmons couldn't deny that it took a strong man to walk away from a dressing down like that without doing something foolish. For that, Grif had Simmons' quite respect. "Where are you going Soldier!?" Sarge yelled, causing the ever so slightly trembling Grif to freeze.

"Away. Don't bother looking for me," Grif said. The beginnings of respect for Grif Simmons held grew just a little at that. Short, sweet, and moderated. Sure the words quivered with rage, but not enough to be considered insubordination or talking back to a CO.

"Humph. Going to take a five hour nap you big baby?!" Sarge asked. Grif snorted, resuming his deliberate walk toward the door.

"Yeah. I'm gonna take a five hour nap," he said sarcastically before vanishing into the canyon.

"Humph. Fine. Simmons! We need a plan." Simmons sighed, momentarily wishing he could join Grif in slacking off. Sarge was best dealt with in small doses or with back up.

/*/

Grif, however, wasn't slacking off. He had dragged the punching bag he'd found into an out of the way spot and was doing his level best to reduce it to scraps of cloth and a pile of sand with his bare fists. Not wanting his armor ripping into the bag, he'd removed it and laid it by the canyon wall, working in only his black under-suit. Grif channeled his anger and frustration into his hits and found the repetition and dull pain cooled his temper. When he was calmer, he stopped and stretched out. That done, he ran the Red portion of the canyon for a few minutes before returning to his bag. Basic training came back and he fell forward for push-ups. It took him the full five hours to get through the routine basic had pounded into him against his will. That done, Grif found a stream and rinsed off before putting his armor back on and heading back to base, considerably calmer. "Grif!" Simmons called. Grif groaned. He really didn't want to have to deal with the suck up right now. "I'm sorry." Wait. What?

"Why are you apologizing?" Grif asked, blinking behind his visor at the maroon soldier. Simmons shifted from foot to foot.

"Well, Sarge really let you have it. And I just stood there and let him. I..." he said, looking down and away. Grif shook his head with a sigh, his earlier anger and indignation gone.

"Look, Sarge is just the kind of guy who yells for no good reason. It's fine," he said, really feeling his five hours of PT.

"Well... good," Simmons said awkwardly, still not looking at his teammate. Grif nodded and clapped a hand on Simmons' shoulder as he passed. Somehow, that one simple gesture conveyed more than words. Simmons smiled at the quiet understanding Grif offered. It was nice, having a prickly friend who was just as awkward as him when it came to actual human interaction. After that day, Grif slowly set up his own gym next to the canyon wall, out of sight from the base, along with a very basic obstacle course that he'd go run every morning and every evening.

/*/

It had been three weeks since his mission with Agent Black and Grif was getting a little anxious. After he'd set up his gym area and obstacle course, he had started using target practice for on-base stress relief. And it was starting to show. This troubled him because he saw himself in the Blues, and had already recognized that he had no real problem with them. Though... he sometimes considered shooting their irritating Captain in the head. He was just so... chipper. It was creepy. No-one should be that chipper in the middle of a war zone. Still, he couldn't be such a good shot in this canyon. So, he started aiming _around_ the Blues instead of at them. However, this still left the problem of his increasing activity and overall fitness. He tried to combat this by washing off after a good work out and either going to bed or finding a decent napping spot the others might not have checked yet. It wasn't a perfect system, there were only so many decent napping spots five minutes walking distance from Red Base after all, but it convinced Sarge. It took him another week to recognize something. That one death defying mission he'd gone on as Agent Orange had finally done what his whole life thus far had failed to do. It had motivated him, made him into a fighter. He realized that he wanted to go on another mission as Agent Orange. He wanted show Marley how much he'd improved.

/*/

Routine had firmly settled in at Blood Gulch. Then, after Grif had begun to wonder if he'd just dreamed that Agent Black had kidnapped him to a hostile alien base, The Phantom scooping him up. Again. "Hey Dex! Sorry I've been away so long. I was preparing a present for you!" Marley said before bouncing over to a crate and prying the lid off. Dex slowly walked over and saw...

"Armor?" he asked, a little puzzled. From what he could tell from the jumbled mess of titanium alloy, it looked much the same as Marley's aside from being dark orange.

"Uh-huh! Your Agent Orange armor! And don't worry, you can switch it to 'standard' and it'll change into a replica of the armor you have now," Marley said, clearly very pleased with herself. Dex grinned and stripped to his under armor. Marley whistled as she took in the changes the last month of self-imposed training had wrought. "Somebody's been drinking his milk," she commented offhandedly. Dex felt himself flush and sped up slightly. Having a woman old enough to be his mother checking him out was a little unsettling.

"Yeah, well, I wanted to be ready the next time you came calling," he said, focusing on putting the armor on. Marley chuckled behind him, shaking her head.

"So, super slacker taking the back seat?" she asked as he clicked his helmet into place. He chuckled, his bearing shifting ever so slightly.

"In a manner of speaking," he said turning around. Marley shook her head as she watched his entire bearing change.

"Yeah. No. He's taking a back seat right now. I can tell. It's like Dex and Grif are two different peo..." she began, giving him a considering look.

"Sides," Dex cut in, recognizing the shift she was talking about, having felt it the moment he touched back down in Blood Gulch. "Grif is the super slacker hiding the... Dex," he said, unsure of just what he was becoming now that he'd left behind the slacker. Marley sighed.

"Okay. Whatever man. I need to explain how this armor is different than your old armor. First, it's nothing but a blur in HUD. Second, it has better tech. Better shields, better sound dampeners, and a stealth unit, meaning you can blend in with the backgrounds, like camouflage. There's also a healing unit, but the bigger the injury, the longer it'll take to heal, same as with natural healing. Just go easy on the stealth and healing units, too much stress can either burn them out... or cause them to overload your armor. There's a reason Master Chief was given an AI ya know," she warned, giving him the School Teacher Eye of Doom. Dex nodded, showing he understood. Marley nodded back and continued. "You'll notice the helmet has a gray visor and the rest of the armor has gray highlights. These can change color and will become your usual orange when in 'standard' mode. Also, in 'Agent' mode, it's a noticeably darker orange. Should help keep Agent Orange and Private Grif separate. Especially when I find someone for the other sets I had made," Marley said, motioning at the three other crates. Dex nodded, taking note of how many suits were left.

"So... five Agents?" Dex asked, looking back to his partner.

"Eventually. Now, about the mission," Marley said. Dex sat down and leaned back, arms crossed over his chest.

"I'm listening."

/*/

Marley smirked. It was kinda eerie, seeing Grif like... like... York! That's who he was reminding her of! Agent New York! Still, she kinda liked it. Making a change. Next was Simmons, but she wasn't sure when to bring him in. He couldn't vanish for extended periods of time quite as easily as Grif. But she couldn't plot now. She had a mission, and Dex would be wonderful back up. "Alright, it's a backwater base, a step up from Blood Gulch, but hostile aliens are hitting it pretty hard. Our job? Get the soldiers out. Easy, right?" she said. Dex snorted.

"Yeah. Easy as pie. What's the catch?"

"Um. Aliens?" Marley tried. Dex looked like he was thinking it over, then he nodded.

"Sure, I'll buy that. How long?"

"Touch down in ten. Familiarize yourself with your new armor as well you can now, we'll be heading into full combat far too soon," Marley told him before vanishing into the cockpit.

/*/

Dex walked around the ship, getting a feel for how the new armor fit, how it moved. It was different from his old suit. Lighter almost, though that might have been the more streamlined construction and it's greater flexibility. He ran through the few forms he remembered, immersing himself in this still so new part of himself. It was different, it was weird, but he liked it. He liked being Agent Orange. Sure it was kind of a dorky name, but it worked for him. As he checked out the systems in his new armor, Dex thought about the other three Agents who hadn't been brought into the fold. He wondered if Marley would pick up more people from Blood Gulch. Curious, he opened the other three crates. Maroon, Red, and Burgundy. Seeing the first two, he immediately thought of Simmons and Sarge. But who would take the Burgundy? Dex shook his head. Sarge and Simmons weren't going to be Agents. ' _But what if they were, Dex? What if she did?_ ' the little voice in the back of his mind whispered. Dex sighed. If Marley did bring in the rest of his team from Blood Gulch, he'd just have to act like he didn't know. He'd have to pretend. And maybe, if they figured it out, they would too. Maybe they would leave Blood Gulch as their safe place. The place where they could unwind. Their illusion of a peaceful looserville where nothing was expected of them and they could afford to fail. Grif shook his head. He was over thinking this way too much. He went back to thinking about the mission. A rescue mission. Shouldn't be too hard. Right? He snorted at himself. Yeah. Right. He was so going to be hurting after this.

/*/

A Pelican class drop ship touched down in the forest surrounding Remnant Outpost 17, about a mile outside sensor range, and an orange armored Spartan stepped out. "You sure about this Black?" a worried male voice asked over the radio, the orange armored soldier anxiously checking his weapon.

"Absolutely Orange. When you get to the ODSTs, clear an LZ and send up your flare, I'll pick you guys up. I'd let you take this part, but I don't think you know how to pilot a Pelican," a female voice answered back from the craft. The man rolled his shoulders and set off through the brush. All too soon, he came upon the first line of aliens.

"Show time," he muttered glumly, hefting his rifle and landing as many shots as he could before he needed to reload, charging the line. From there, it was a terrifying blaze of gunfire, far too many jarring impacts from punches and kicks, and so much screaming he nearly lost his voice. But he got to the objective.

"Who are you?!" the pinned soldiers asked the Spartan as he ran toward their shelter. The undeclared soldier landed four more head shots and wounded a Jackal before leaping over their barricade, spinning on his back, and coming up with his gun aimed at the advancing hoard.

"Agent Orange. Now would one of you please lend a gun, I need to signal our ride," he said, blasting the head off an Elite with a calm that was eerie even to him. He didn't see the three soldiers at his back nod and take guns off their more drained comrades to start firing as well. He was a little too busy shooting aliens and trying to get the pounding in his ears to die down and the sick feeling of fear to recede until a more convenient time. However, he did notice when the bullets started taking out enemies. Orange nodded and sent up the flare for Black, praying she'd come before he freaked the ODSTs out by screaming bloody murder. What followed was the longest three minutes of Orange's life. Bullets ripped past his head from the three soldiers by his side, purple needle like shot whistled toward him, energy shields crackling as they worked to deflect the projectiles. It took just about everything Orange had to hold the enemy at bay until Black came for an evac, but when she came, there was nothing Orange would have rather seen than that open cargo bay door.

"Everybody in!" Black yelled over the loud speaker as she held the Pelican steady a foot off the ground.

"You heard the woman! In in in!" Orange yelled over the roar of the engines, still firing, now on his sixth clip. The soldiers piled in, dragging their wounded. Orange didn't move until the ship started to pull away, then he ran and jumped into the still open bay, tucking and rolling to clear the now-closing door.

"That... was awesome!" one of the ODST soldiers said, awe clear in his voice, head pointed in Orange's direction. Orange sighed, leaning against the wall of the transport. He felt like a giant bruise, most certainly not the awesome figure of epicness the injured ODST seemed to see him as. It was shaping up to be a pretty bad day for Agent Orange.

"Black," he called and oh fudge berries, even that hurt.

"Yea Orange?" Black's far, far, too amused voice called back. If he could spare the energy, he'd have glared at the cockpit.

"Next time, _you_ get to go charging into a ten-hundred-to-one battle." The pilot laughed, and didn't that just rankle? He heaved his aching body into the seats and strapped himself in. He didn't fancy getting tossed around in the back of a Pelican. Not in the condition he was in.

"You'd have to learn how to fly first, Orange!" Black called back. There was a slight click and then another Spartan was coming out of the cockpit. This one was in black armor with gray highlights and an orange visor set into a very familiar style of helmet. She clapped a hand on Orange's shoulder, producing a dull clunking sound, and turned to the rescued soldiers. "We're taking you to another base, same planet. Eventually, you lot are probably going to have to retake that base but for now, who needs medical attention the most? I'll see what I can do for them," she said, holding up her toolbox. This was met with a lot of relief and cried blessings. In the privacy of his helmet, Orange was glaring daggers at Black, who was now at a point where he didn't have to turn his head to glare at her. It wasn't too much later that the world dissolved into darkness and the fear Orange had repressed during the battle. Had he been conscious, he would have been glad of the deactivated mic. His helmet silenced his nightmare screams.

/*/

As they watched the Pelican fly away after dropping them off just outside sensor range of Outpost 9, the soldiers of Remnant Outpost 17 were already working out how they were going to write their reports. "We should get our stories straight," the Captain said. His soldiers nodded and they made camp before gathering by the fire to write their single report.

"Should we mention that it was Agent Black that rescued us? And that he's a she? And that she has a partner?" the Lieutenant asked. The Privates grumbled amongst themselves, some saying yes, some saying no, some saying they should mention that a pair of Spartans helped but not describe them.

"We say we were rescued by Agents Black and Orange," the Captain decided, writing it up. The others sigh, but nod and add their descriptions of armor and skill. Agent Orange was reported as a quick witted tactical genius unafraid of charging head-long into enemy ranks and capable of taking out five Elite at once. A true one man army. Agent Black was still an enigma, but now had a voice. A female pilot with medical knowledge and advanced stealth abilities, Agent Black was now the ideal all female soldiers aspired to.

/*/

Marley listened. It was one of her best skills. Very useful when trying to lend a hand to those in need. So she heard the growing legends about Agents Orange and Black. She smirked, but felt a tingle of unease. Was she really doing the right thing, building up Grif's reputation under the guise of Agent Orange? She shook her head. What was done was done, and Grif didn't seem like he wanted to go back to the way he was before. So, the only thing she could do was make sure she brought him back to Blood Gulch in one piece. Or at least patched up real good. Her background as a doctor came in real handy there. She sighed and checked in on ex-Agent Georgia. "How you doing there George?" she asked.

"You know, the usual. Had to make a pit stop the other day, but it's all good," the man replied. Marley frowned.

"You sound tired George. What's going on over there?" she asked, concern for one of her first rescues raising in her chest.

"Nothing much just... what do you know of Chorus?" A spire of ice felt like it shoved its way through her gut.

"Stay out of it, George. Help will be given, just... not right now. Please, promise me you'll sit tight until I call?" she plead. George sighed heavily.

"Fine. But I'm going to keep fairly close."

"I hear they had a grav ray. Don't get too close or you'll be sucked down and lost for good!" Marley warned.

"Marley, I'll be fine. But maybe we should get the others in on this too," he said. Marley sighed.

"Have you heard of Agent Orange?" she asked.

"Your new partner in crime? Yeah. Sounds tough."

"He's a Sim."

"Seriously?!"

"Yeah. He and the others from Blood Gulch are the reason I got out when I could. Red Team from Blood Gulch is gonna be my go-to for back-up on the relatively low-risk missions. Ya know, prepare them a little. But I promise you, the moment I get something too tough for me to handle, I'll call the other Phantoms. Okay?" George sighed on the other end, then chuckled.

"Always were a stubborn one, Marley. Sure. I'll sit tight. But you'd better keep that promise." Marley smiled.

"I always do. Unless I die. Or get captured and tortured. Then I can't. Not easily anyway," she said. George chuckled.

"Yeah. Try not to do that," he said, right before something in the background made a sparking sound.

"What was that?" Marley asked sharply.

"Oh fudge! Hey, you don't happen to know anything about ship repair, do you? I think my cloaking unit just went out," George asked, obviously trying not to freak out. Marley sighed.

"Well, at least I have my next mission. I'm bringing in a new one, George. I was looking for a good way to bring Rick in anyway," she said, then signed out and headed back to Blood Gulch. It was time for Agent Maroon to make an appearance.

/?/

A/N: And now, time for Simmons to join in Project Red!

A/N 2: Again, this has been re-edited. I personally like the feel of this version better.

Regenengel3 7/09/16


	3. Episode 3

Disclaimer: Don't own anyone but Agent Black.

Warnings: Crazy. That is all.

 **Episode 3:** Enter Agent Maroon

Simmons wasn't too sure what was going on. Grif had just reappeared, extra grumpy about having his day long nap ended, when a ship dropped out of nowhere, scooped him up, and off they went. "What the... ?" he muttered, and then a black Spartan came bouncing out of the cockpit.

"Hello there!" it, she, chirped. "Can you fix the cloaking system in a space ship? I've got a friend who's effectively a sitting duck." Simmons froze up, alarms blaring in his head. It was a girl. A girl. Girl. Girl. Girl. GIRL! "Hey! Stop spacing out man! I really need an IT guru!" He shook his head and looked away.

"Do you have a voice modulator?" he squeaked, glad that his helmet hid his face. The woman behind him sighed and there was a small electrical noise.

"Better, McFussy Pants?" the Spartan asked. Simmons flinched. It was Grif's voice.

"No. Now I'm going to be calling you Grif," he groused, turning back around. The black helmet lolled a bit and Simmons could almost feel her rolling her eyes.

"Fine," Grif's voice said then there was a slight fuzzing and an unfamiliar male voice asked, "this better, McFussy?"

"A little, but you still put me in mind of Grif. Relation of yours?" Simmons asked, a little more at ease now that the woman's voice was masked.

"Nope. Now, cloaking systems?" she answered, leaning back on her left leg. Shaking his head, Simmons thought back on his time in training.

"As long as it isn't a major problem, I should be able to fix it," he said, nodding.

"Then off we go! Oh, but before we do," she pushed a crate toward him, "suit up, Agent Maroon." He could have sworn there was a smirk in that voice, but Simmons forcefully ignored that and changed into the other armor. It was almost exactly like Black's, only maroon and with a different style helmet. With gray accents. And when did he start calling her Black? "Oh yeah, I never told you my name," Black called. Simmons tilted his head. "On this ship, and my friend's, go ahead and call me Marley. Otherwise, I'm Agent Black." A chill went down Simmons back. Agent Black?! Oh man, what had he gotten himself into?

/*/

Turned out, he only got himself into fixing a ship's computer. And meeting this crazy Spartan named George. Apparently, he had a code name too. Georgia. Simmons was glad that his helmet came with the option of switching off the mic, otherwise he might have bruised a rib trying not to laugh. Or laughing and then getting punched. As it was, Simmons couldn't help but snicker and think, ' _Any particular reason you got a girl's name for a secret call sign?_ ' "Thanks for the help Rick! I'm not the best with this kind of work. I'm more of a go in guns blazing kinda guy," George said while Simmons worked, friendly amusement in his voice. Simmons jerked slightly. Rick? His name wasn't Rick. It was Simmons.

"Yeah, Rick's a real techno geek. And shy. And can't talk to girls," Marley said. Simmons glared at her under his visor for a moment before returning to his work.

"Oh! Is that why you sound like York? I wondered," George said, nodding. Simmons could feel his face heating and was sure it was as red as his armor by now.

"Yeah. Poor kid. I'm planning on helping him with that. Probably what I'll be doing the most with him. Can't steal him from his post too often or too long. He's actually a dependable soldier, even if he is a suck up," Marley said, nodded.

"Kid? I'm not a kid. You're a kid," Simmons muttered, once again glad he'd switched off his mic. Marley's head titled slightly toward him and he could have sworn she heard him through the helmet.

"A suck up? Marley, you're making a suck up a member of your team? I thought you hated suck ups!" George said. Marley shrugged, her shoulders smoothly flowing under her armor.

"I do. But just like Dex is a super slacker off my ship, Rick can develop a different attitude on ship. I'm counting on that actually." Simmons blinked. Dex? George shook his head.

"You can't just do that, Marley! Not all of them are going to be like Dex!"

"But what if they are!" Marley shot back, taking a step closer, putting her helmet right up next to George's. "What if they are?" she asked a bit softer, backing up and looking down. George shook his head at the lowered helmet.

"Look, I just don't want you to get hurt, okay Marlene?" he asked with a sigh. Marley shook her head.

"It's not that simple, George, and you know it," she said, then stalked back to her ship. "Come on Rick. Time to take you back to Blood Gulch." Simmons looked to George, and turned his mic back on.

"What's she talking about?" George turned to him, then chuckled softly, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"You'll find out, Agent Maroon. Just... when she talks, listen. When she teaches, memorize it. Burn her words into your memory. It might just save your life, Rick," he said, and then he was gone, headed toward what passed as his living room. Simmons sighed. The Blues never had to deal with stuff like this.

/*/

Church groaned as once again, Captain Flowers went off on a shrink kick. That calm, placid voice, that 'I just want the best for you' attitude. Ugh! He was so... "Hippie," a voice supplied. Church nodded. Captain Flowers was a... "Can I shoot him for you?" the voice asked. Wait. Church turned and saw the orange soldier from red team.

"Gah! When did you get there?!" Church asked, jumping back and bringing his rifle up. The orange helmet turned to him, somehow conveying a 'really dude?' expression.

"Can I shoot your hippie Captain or not?" the soldier asked, drawing attention to the rifle in his hands.

"No! You can't shoot my Captain!" Church protested, eying the weapon warily. He'd seen what the other solider could do with it. In fact, Church was fairly sure the man in front of him missed on purpose. The other man sighed, his rifle dipping down to aim at the rock of the canyon.

"Everyone keeps saying that, but whenever he opens his mouth all I hear is 'shoot me shoot me shoot me I want to die shoot me.' It's really quite annoying," the orange soldier said. Church chuckled nervously. Oh man, he was stuck up on a cliff with a psychopath! ' _Tucker! Save me! Wait. He's as bad a shot as me. Don't save me!_ ' "Dude, you feeling alright? Sounds like you're hyperventilating or something. Relax! I'm not going to shoot you. Slug you, maybe. Push you off the cliff... nah. Probably not. Too much work," the orange soldier said, sitting back against the canyon wall, for all the world as though he was talking to a friend.

"Are you bi-polar?" Church found himself asking. The orange soldier chuckled.

"Maybe. But then, we're all mad here, aren't we?" he asked wryly. Church could practically see the melancholy half smile on his enemies face.

"Why are you here?!" Church yelled at the infuriating man, but that irritating orange helmet just titled back slightly and another wry laugh was transmitted through the speakers.

"That... is one of the great mysteries of life, isn't it? But more immediately... I needed to get away from Sarge. That man is only tolerable in short bursts. Much like your Captain. Only better. Because I don't want to shoot him. Unless he's obsessing. Then I want to pistol whip him. A lot of problems can be solved with a quick pistol whip to the face," he said. Church shook his head at the man.

"You... are strange. Really, really, strange," he said. The orange guy shrugged.

"Maybe, but so are you," he rebutted. Church decided he needed to learn this guy's name.

"What's your name anyway?" he asked, prompting the man to turn toward him. He stared at the cobalt helmet, then chuckled.

"Grif. Private Dexter Grif, First Class. Pleasure to officially meet you," the other man, Grif, said as he held out a hand.

"Private Leonard Church, First Class. Likewise," Church said, taking the offered hand and giving it a firm shake. Grif nodded.

"You seem a decent fellow, I'd hate to kill you."

"You seem a decent fellow, I'd hate to die."

"I'll try not to hit you."

"And I'll try to hit you. That way, you should be fairly safe." Grif laughed, nearly falling over.

"Oh man! I can't believe you admit to being such a bad shot that actually _aiming_ for someone makes them safer!" he said between wheezes. Church laughed too.

"Yeah, it's pretty pathetic, isn't it?" he asked, and man did it feel good to just cut loose like this!

"Ya know, I'm on Red Team, right?" Grif finally asked, having regained his breath. Church sighed.

"Yeah. So?" he asked, hoping Grif wouldn't end this almost-friendship.

"Maybe... maybe you should try... I don't know, complaining to your other teammate? Maybe the two of you can develop the same kind of unstated friendship me and Simmons have. I annoy the living daylights out of him by being essentially his polar opposite, and he amuses me by getting annoyed. He annoys me by being a suck up and I amuse him by being annoyed. It's... it's weird but it works. Or maybe it works because it's weird. I don't know and really I don't care. I'm just glad there's something that makes this canyon tolerable, ya know?" Church nodded. He could certainly understand that.

"Church! Save me!" Tucker yelled, running toward the ridge where the two were resting. Grif chuckled and started backing away.

"Your teammate's calling you Church. You should see what he needs. And remember, he might not be as bad as you think," he said and then he was gone, as suddenly as he had appeared. Church sighed. It was going to be a long day. And how the heck had Grif pulled that off?!

/*/

Tucker was at the end of his rope and just wanted someone to complain to. So, naturally, when he found Church, he found his outlet. "Church! Save me!" he called up to the cobalt soldier.

"From what?!" Church yelled, irritated with Tucker's yelling.

"Captain Flowers!" Tucker called. Church sighed.

"He going on about 'I just want to know you're alright?'" he asked.

"Yes! And he's been asking me where you are and if you're alright and if I'd like a glass of water or prefer orange juice. It's driving me mad!" Tucker answered, throwing his hands up in frustration. Church sighed. Just another day on Blue Team.

"Ya know, that orange guy on Red Team offered to shoot him for us," he said, real casual. He was curious how Tucker would respond to the threat against their CO.

"No! He can't shoot our Captain!" the other Blue soldier exclaimed, apparently shocked.

"That's what I said," Church remarked dryly. Part of him wondered if the two of them were more alike than he had previously thought.

"Well, what'd he say after that?" Tucker pressed, relaxing slightly and allowing his rifle to hang loosely in his hands

"That was when he went all psycho on me," Church said, causing Tucker to shiver. That orange guy gave him the creeps. Something about him just made the hairs on the back of Tucker's neck stand on end and all the little voices in his head scream _run!_

"I knew it! I knew he was a psycho killer!" he wailed dramatically. Church shook his head.

"Maybe, but it was... not like that, Tucker. He said, 'Everyone keeps saying that, but whenever he opens his mouth all I hear is 'shoot me shoot me shoot me I want to die shoot me.' It's really quite annoying.' It was... kinda scary, the tone he used. Like that's really what he hears every time Captain Flowers speaks," Church said. Tucker shook his head.

"Dude, that's messed up. Are you sure he's not a psycho killer? And when did you have this conversation?" he asked, worried for his... friend? Co-sufferer? Teammate? Yeah. Teammate. That was the word. Teammate.

"Just before you came screaming about how Captain Flowers was driving you crazy," Church said, all matter of fact. Tucker sighed.

"Again, how do you know he's not a psycho killer?"

"The reassurance that if he pushed me off the cliff it'd be too much work," Church said. Tucker blinked. That... was not enough reason to trust someone. "And the fact that he said he didn't want to kill me. It was just Flowers. Oh, and he said he often wants to pistol whip his Sargent. 'A lot of problems can be solved with a quick pistol whip to the face,' he said," Church recalled. Tucker shook his head.

"Man, the Reds are weird," he said. Church chuckled.

"Yeah, they are. But ya know, I think Grif had something. Everyone needs that annoying friend they can insult and complain to to make life here bearable," he said. Tucker tilted his head slightly. Was Church proposing what he thought he was?

"Are you... offering... to... be my... friend?" Tucker asked, barely daring to hope he might actually have someone other than Captain Flowers to talk to. Church looked to be struggling, but finally, he nodded. Tucker grinned. He had a friend in Blood Gulch. Best. Day. Ever. Of all time.

/*/

Simmons, who had just gotten used to being called Rick by Marley, sighed as he saw Blood Gulch coming into view. He wasn't sure how he felt about going back. In some infinitesimal way, this mission had changed him. Looking at the armor Marley had presented him with, he could tell it was more advanced than his other armor, a little lighter as well. Hopefully, Marley wouldn't ask for it back. "Alright Rick, time for your shore not-quite-leave! And remember, it's a get away from the Agent life style," Marley said, still masking her voice. Rick sighed, but stood in preparation to take his armor back off. "Whoa whoa whoa! What are you doing?" she asked. Already divested of his helmet, Rick gave her a curious look. "The armor is yours. I actually had it made with you in mind. Just put the helmet on and say 'standard mode' and voila! It mimics your old armor! Pretty cool huh?" she asked, bouncing slightly on her toes. Rick just stared at her before running over and carefully hugging her.

"You... are awesome," he whispered. A distinctly feminine chuckle rung in his uncovered ear, causing him to involuntarily tense.

"And you're hugging a girl. I didn't think I'd make it this far with just one mission," Marley's unmasked voice said. Rick froze, then let out a deep breath and slowly let go. He actually had a smile on his face. It was shaky, and it was obvious he was barely holding himself together, but he was smiling at her.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I kinda forgot you were a girl," he said. Marley chuckled.

"Eh, that's fine. If it helps, I'm not going to take my helmet off around you until you can talk normally to me even without masking my voice," she said. Rick couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief.

"Thanks Marley. If you need an IT guy, you know where to find me," he said. She nodded.

"I sure do... Agent Maroon," she said before punching the door release. "It was good to have you Rick," she said, holding out a hand. Rick felt something that almost felt like pride well up in his chest before he took her hand and gave it a firm shake.

"You look after yourself, alright?" he said. Marly snorted.

"I should tell you the same thing, Dumkopf," she said, though Rick was pretty sure he heard a smile behind those mildly derogatory words. Shaking his head and clicking his helmet into place, Rick muttered,

"Standard mode," as he stepped onto Blood Gulch soil. As his armor shifted to 'standard,' Rick felt himself stepping back into his role in Blood Gulch. It was an odd feeling, but honestly, Simmons couldn't feel too upset about it.

/?/

A/N: Well, there you go. What happened to get Simmons into Project Red.

A/N 2: Edited for coherence and pacing. 8/12/16


	4. Episode 4

Disclaimer: Look, if you can find it elsewhere, or recognize it, chances are, I don't own it. Unless it's Marley. Or anyone from any of my other stories. Like Fremd. Both these kick butt ladies are mine, and if you steal them, they have standing orders to wreck your stories and then punt you out the door. And through the house if necessary to get you to the door.

To Guest, whose reviews are keeping this poor fic on the net... Here's SARGE! Hope it lives up to whatever expectations you had. Honestly... the old soldier ran away with me so... yeah. Enjoy!

 **Episode 4** : Shotgun Anyone?

Simmons and Grif were on top of the base, staying away from Sarge, when a familiar spaceship flickered in and out of sight. "Hey! Did you see that?" asked Grif. Simmons, not knowing what else to do, nodded.

"Yeah. I've been seeing that a lot lately. Like, every week or so. It's not consistent, no pattern, but it's been coming around a lot. What do you think?" he said, glancing over at his teammate. Grif was in a similar state, but now that Simmons had brought it up like that, he went along with the confused bit.

"I don't know man. It's been freaking me out, interrupting my naps... it's mean." Simmons chuckled, but was watching his orange teammate intently, scrutinizing him. Despite all the naps, ducking of responsibility, and snacking, Grif was fairly fit, as far as Simmons could tell with all that armor on. Seriously, Simmons rarely saw the other man without some form of snack in hand and yet he really wasn't all that fat. Grif tilted his head toward Simmons, silently questioning him.

"Oh. Yeah. It is. Every time it flickers by, it messes with my systems, like it's putting out electromagnetic pulses as it goes," Simmons said, putting aside his musing on his teammate's contradictory physique and trying to sound casual. He was panicking, just a little, and wondering what Marley was doing, showing herself like that. And not taking him. Grif nodded, wondering the exact same thing.

"Whatever you say. Geek," he said. Simmons glared halfheartedly at the other man.

"Slacker," he countered. There was a slight pause before Grif countered with,

"Suck up." Simmons wasn't sure, but it sounded like his teammate was smirking.

"Pig," he shot back, referring to his room, which really did look like a pig sty. Or a natural disaster, but pig fit into the flow of their 'argument' better than 'walking tornado.'

"Neat freak," Grif returned, sounding bored. Simmons grit his teeth.

"Walking trash can," he grit out.

"Germaphobe," Grif countered swiftly, anger creeping into his tone. Simmons decided discretion was the better part of valor and changed the subject.

/*/

Captain Flowers, formerly known as Agent Florida, watched the spaceship flicker in the atmosphere over Red Base as well, but with far more trepidation than the other Reds. The ship concerned him, making so many trips to Red Base. If he didn't want to alarm anyone over at Project Freelancer, which he didn't, it was time to call the one person he really didn't want to. Agent Black. A data-pad number had been imbedded in a transmission from 'Blue Command' with the tag AB. It wasn't hard to figure out whose it was. The pad 'rang' for a moment and then a voice Flowers never thought he'd heard again came over the airwaves. "Ah! Flowdie! I was wondering when you'd give me a ring! When are you planning your funeral for? Oh! Are you really allergic to aspirin? Cause, if you aren't, that could be an easy out. If you are... don't take any needles from Church, he doesn't know what he's doing!" Agent Oregon said oh-so-cheerily.

"Oregon?!" Flowers asked, voice squeaking slightly in shock. That achingly familiar laugh came through the data pad before,

"Name's Black. Agent Black."

"You're Agent Black?" he asked, his usual persona ripped to shreds by his surprise.

"Just said I was, didn't I? Don't worry about that ship action over Red Base. These guys are diamonds in the rough. And I'm a gem cutter," she said cheerfully, though it sounded like she was trying to keep her voice down.

"No you're not. You're a soldier! What are you doing with the Reds?" Flowers contested, glaring at the data pad. Oregon had always been able to rile him up.

"... Project Red, Code Freelancer." Flowers hit his head against the concrete wall of the Sim. base. Agent Oregon was known for being cryptic, but this was stretching it.

"Ore..." he began, drawing the word out in his frustration.

"You'll see when you join the Phantoms in the Void," Oregon said, cutting him off.

"Black..." he growled, feeling his shoulders tense.

"I promise, Butch, things will clear up. But we are cursed, Butch. We are cursed to live in interesting times and where the Alpha goes, events follow. Project Freelancer is failing, Butch. In fact, it's already failed. I'm just waiting until it starts to seriously implode. That's when I'll reveal myself fully. But for now, I'm a Phantom in the business of making other Phantoms. I'm also working on a personal project. Project Red. Now, I'm getting ready to jump to HS, so I'm gonna say keep your nose clean and contact me when the assignment wears on you. And if you're allergic to aspirin, don't take any needles from Church. Ciao!" the enigmatic woman on the other end sang before the pad in Flowers' hands fell silent.

"Black! Oregon! Come on! Don't leave me hanging like that!" Flowers yelled at his data pad, but it was no use. The connection was severed. He cursed and nearly threw the pad, but an echo of Oregon's calm, steady voice halted his movement. 'Never treat your tech foolishly, Flowdie. Someday, your life might depend on your equipment running properly.' He huffed out a sigh and sank to the cold metal floor. He didn't even notice the tears slipping down his face as his throat choked up. Agent Oregon had been a good friend, a superb pilot, and Flowers had truly looked up to her, even hoped they could be more than just friends. She'd been lost on a mission, no-one knew quite how. Some said her nav. unit quit, others said she got shot down. A few even said she'd defected. The most popular theory, relatively speaking, was that she was dead and lost to the cold void of space. Flowers had never told Oregon how he felt, how her presence lit up the world around him. He had thought he was too late, that she was gone forever, and now here she was, flying around and picking up Red Sim. Troopers for something she called Project Red. What was Project Red?! And what was that about Code Freelancer? He sighed and chuckled bitterly. Good old Oregon, confusing to the very end. He sighed, but committed her last words to memory. If there was one thing about Oregon as steady as her confusing nature, it was her tendency to be right. Shaking his head, Flowers walked out to begin another day of training to take out the Reds.

/*/

Sarge was a gruff man. He knew it, his men knew it, everyone knew it! But when confronted with a little girl in black Spartan armor holding out a brand new Blaze of Glory shotgun and saying, 'Will you help me clear out and blow up an alien base?' he just about cried. "Sure darling. Uncle Sarge 'll help ya," he said, still choking back the tears. The black Spartan titled her head, then shifted her visor to clear. Sarge couldn't help but stare. She was older than he thought.

"I'm not gonna object to you seeing me as family, I quite like it in fact, but I think you should know a few things about me first," she said, motioning for him to sit down. Sarge 'hurmph'ed, but sat down. He was quite interested in her story. She wove a complicated narrative of war, desperation, hope, fear, greed, and moral corruption. She told of Freelancers and A.I. Of memories not her own and of discovering how they were true. "And that brings us to the last few years. I've been trying to save as many Freelancers as I can. But the last few aren't ready yet, so I've started my next project, Project Red. I already have two Agents; Orange and Maroon. Now, only two sets of armor remain. Would you take the Red, Sarge?" Marley finished, wrapping up her story. Sarge stripped to his under armor and quickly and efficiently strapped on the new armor. Marley grinned. "Thanks, Sarge. So, about those aliens..."

"Darling, I already said I'd help," Sarge said, taking the Blaze of Glory shotgun and chambering a round. "Now lets blow up some aliens!"

"You got it!" Marley said and piloted the ship to the planet surface. When they touched down, chaos erupted. Aliens screeched, men shouted, bullets screamed through the air, and missiles shook the ground. "Watch my six, Agent Red!" Marley yelled, heading to a knot of cowering soldiers.

"Ten-four, Black!" Sarge called back. Agent Black went through six clips, two guns, and a grenade launcher before pulling out a pair of hand long daggers from a belt across her chest, a belt that de-cloaked as she drew from it. "What the? Where in Sam's Hill did you get that?" Red asked. Agent Black grinned savagely behind her darkened visor.

"Eh, you pick up a few things, wandering the far reaches of space. Now keep the biggest ones off my back, I'm going hunting," she said, adrenaline making her voice rough. Red nodded, understanding what battle did and called for. He blasted the head off an ugly brute that was getting a bit too close.

"Just be careful and come on back. I don't want to loose you too soon, Black," he said seriously. Black laughed mirthlessly.

"This isn't my first rodeo, Uncle Red. I know my way around the battlefield. You watch yerself now, ya hear?" she said, slipping into a South Alabama accent, before she dashed off into the fray, knocking over grunts and knifing them in the throat. Agent Red chuckled even as he shot at another Elite.

"That's ma girl," he said, returning his focus to the battle.

/*/

The whole thing was done within four hours and Sarge hadn't received more than a bruise throughout it. Marley, on the other hand, had fractured her arm, sprained her ankle, broken a rib, and bruised both shin bones. "I told you to be careful out there!" Sarge chastised as she eased herself into the cockpit after ascertaining the extent of the damage. Marley chuckled, taking off her helmet. Sarge took note of the bruises on her face and the split lip as she started the ship up. "It's not a laugh'n matter!" he barked at her. She held up a hand, still smiling.

"Uncle, it's fine. Honest. I've had worse. _Much_ worse. And if you hadn't been there, I might have actually died. So, thank you. And the next time someone tells you a shotgun is an inefficient weapon, shoot 'em in the kneecap and tell 'em you saved your commanding officer's life with that 'inefficient and impractical' weapon," she said. Sarge frowned at her.

"Lass... I'm serious..."

"And so am I!" Marley shot back, her voice raising and eyes sparking. Sarge noted the stubborn set of her jaw and sighed, sitting back. "I know how to handle myself, Sargent. I've been a soldier for... many years. I was an army doctor before that. I am no stranger to violence, pain, and the consequences of inattention. I know my limits. That's why I got you. Or would you rather I had picked up one of my other Agents? Orange or Maroon? Neither are as experienced as you, and Maroon hasn't been battle tested yet, but they can still get the job done."

"Who are these Orange and Maroon fellas?" Sarge questioned. Marley snorted, already piloting them back to Blood Gulch.

"Orange is a 'go in and make people stop moving' type who favors an assault rifle while Maroon is a 'keep them off my back while I hack into the targeting system and shoot 'em with their own guns' type. I haven't worked with him enough to know his favored weapon, but I'm thinking of teaching him knife fighting. Maybe the basics of sniping. Orange too. I'm already making sure their hand-to-hand is up to par," she said. Sarge nodded, frowning. "Neither are as... heavy hitting... as you. I doubt Maroon ever will be, but Orange is close," Marley finished, turning her attention back to the shifting space ahead of the Pelican.

"You're right. You needed me. Glad I could help," Sarge said before going back into the hold. Marley smiled grimly. That... had gone about as well as she could have hoped. She hadn't counted on Sarge claiming her as family, or being quite so caring, but eh. It worked and that was what mattered. Well, that and she had another gun she could call on if she needed it. That was pretty important.

/*/

Tucker and Church saw the ship flicker back through the air above Red Base. It had only been about seven hours. They exchanged looks. "What do you think is going on over there?" Tucker asked. Church shook his head.

"Honestly? I don't want to know," he said. Part of him cried out whenever he saw that ship, like it was trying to reach it. Whatever that ship was, it made Church uneasy and joyful at the same time. It was unsettling all around. Tucker nodded. He didn't need to see Church's face to know the cobalt soldier wasn't comfortable around the mysterious craft.

"Hey, you catch the game last night?" he asked, hoping to distract his friend. Thankfully, it worked.

"Yeah. Man, Blue Team _dominated_ that match!" Church said. Tucker smirked as they began talking about the latest Grifball game. The mystery of the ship and what it might be doing over at Red Base was a touchy and irritating subject no matter who he talked about it with, but Church was just a little more prickly than Captain Flowers. Come to think of it, _everyone_ was a bit more prickly than Captain Flowers. That guy should have been a pacifist. Or a hippie living out of a trailer and growing his own food.

/*/

"Take care Uncle! I'll call you if I need an extra shotgun!" Marley called, waving at her third Agent as she prepared to leave.

"Next time, can we take the full team?" Sarge asked. Marley froze. That wasn't part of the plan. Sure she wasn't about to hide the fact she had other Agents in Project Red, but she hadn't planned on introducing them to each other. Too easy for them to put it all together and ruin the illusion that was Blood Gulch. And she couldn't let that happen for another couple of months.

"Why?" she asked carefully, hoping he'd give a reason that was too poor for her to accept.

"Well, if one's good, and two is better, then three is best!" Sarge reasoned. Marley let out a little breath of relief. He hadn't pieced it together yet. And, it was just flimsy enough for her to shoot it down.

"Sarge, you're reasoning isn't bad, but I prefer a small team. Two man cells," she hedged. Honestly, the others needed more training before going on a mission of the caliber they'd just completed.

"Well, ya got two other Agents right? Just pair them together and I'll watch your back," Sarge said. Marley sighed.

"Sarge... They haven't even met each other yet. And Maroon is the nervous type. I haven't gotten him comfortable with _me_ yet! And Orange can be... a little much. Just... give us time," she said pleadingly.

"Alright. But one day ya hear! One day ya will have ta bring us all along. I don't like thinking of you out there without proper back up! Especially when yer all banged up like that!" Sarge said, brandishing a finger at the softly smiling pilot.

"Sure thing Uncle. Now, remember, Blood Gulch is where you can relax. Leave the Agent life behind and enjoy a more relaxed environment," she said. Sarge sighed.

"Fine. But you promised me a joint mission with those other Agents!"

"Yes, Uncle, I promise," Marley said. Sarge grunted and hopped out. Sighing, Marley sealed her ship back up and flew off to dock with the larger ship she had made her home. Now she just had to wait for Flowers to call her again. That was when the real fun would begin. She glanced out the view port at the retreating bases and revised that. The fun had already begun, it was the crazy that would start with Captain Flowers' 'death.' She could hardly wait.

/?/

A/N: Okay. That... sucked. Badly. Darn it why are these guys so hard to write?! Gah! Is it because I'm a girl? Is that why it's hard to write two guys just shooting the breeze? Maybe. Maybe it's because I'm essentially a shut in. Ah life. You can be so cruel. Anyway, next one is going to jump straight into the main series. Why? Because I'm not good at writing Halo-esk missions. However, there will be changes. Mostly to Red Team. This fic, is Red-centric and as such will be following what the Reds do with a few appearances by the Blues. What happens with Doughnut when he's missing from the main story line will also be covered in this fic. I am open to suggestions for Project Red missions. Specifically Doughnut's initiation mission. Until next time, tchuss.

A/N 2: Ugh. Even re-edited this chapter's not all that good. Blegh. 8/12/16


	5. Christmas Special

Disclaimer: Don't own RvB or Halo.

 **To my lovely Guest reviewer:** I know Sarge is kinda ooc. He's hard to write! And, Marly kinda has that effect on people. Look what she did to Grif! Anyway, next chapter will have Lopez and the chapter after is when Doughnut arrives. Though, due to the changes made by Marly's existence, neither character will be like they were in the show. So here's a question to you, and anyone else reading this: Would Sarge listen to Simmons if he reminded him of who was the IT guy on base? And if so, should Lopez still be Spanish?

 **Warning!** Not entirely consistent. Oh, and **Doughnut is called Eagle or Eagle Eye**. Enjoy!

Anyway, enough from the author, on to the story!

 **Christmas Special**

 _It was December 25, and all through Valhalla, soldiers were getting ready for the big day. It was a happy time, full of camaraderie and friendship._

/*/

"WHERE DID YOU PUT THAT WRAPPING PAPER, RICK!?" Dex shouted, tearing the base's supply closet apart.

"WHERE I FOUND IT!" the IT wizard called from the kitchen, where he was delicately roasting a rather large goose like bird. Sometimes, it really paid to have a sniper on the team.

"AND WHERE WAS THAT?!" Dex yelled, slamming the closet closed in frustration. Sadly, the contents were so disturbed that the door flew back open and slammed him in the face. "FIGGY PUDDING!"

"NOT MY FAULT! Tucker ate it," Caboose said, randomly walking around a corner with a tub labeled 'Figgy Pudding' and a spoon clutched in his hands.

"THIS ISN'T EVEN YOUR BASE!" Dex roared at the man-boy. He didn't seem fazed.

"I WANT COOKIES!" See? Not fazed.

"STOP YELL'N! UNLESS YOU'RE KILLING GRIF! THEN KEEP YELL'N' TILL HE'S DEAD!" Sarge yelled. He had never really gotten over his whole 'I hate Grif' thing, though when Dex was wearing his Agent armor it was restricted to minor grumbling and not shotgun blasts.

"FUDGE YOU SARGE!" Dex called back, turning back to looking for the wrapping paper to use on his last minute gifts.

/*/

 _The Reds and Blues had agreed to a week long truce, leading up to the festivities of the day. Gifts had been made, found, and bargained for. A massive tree, made from Dex's gun collection and Lopez's busted vehicles, stood in the middle of the canyon, decorated with Tucker's CD/DVD collection._

/*/

"... Did you have to steal my CDs?" Tucker asked morosely, looking at the glittering tree of guns.

"Dude... that's all they're good for. Seriously, they were trash," Wash said, setting a pile of gifts under the gun tree.

"Feeling the Christmas spirit there dude. Feeling the Christmas spirit," Tucker said dryly. Wash just chuckled and went back to base.

/*/

 _The Warthogs blared Christmas music while Eagle Eye decorated the canyon with streamers._

/*/

"How did you get that _there?!_ " Wash asked, looking at the massive pile of rock with colorful streamers covering it.

"Streamer rounds," Eagle said simply.

"They make that?" Wash asked, surprised. The younger man shrugged, popping the empty casing out of his rifle.

"I do."

"... Snipers are weird," the ex-Freelancer said, shaking his head.

"So glad you noticed!" Eagle sang happily over his shoulder as he walked over to the next spot, loading another custom round into his gun.

/*/

 _Soon, all was ready and the Teams gathered for their first communal gift swap/carol night._

/*/

"So, who wants to start us off?" Dex asked, looking around at the uncovered faces that surrounded him.

"I will!" Caboose cheered, holding up a clumsily wrapped... thing.

"Alright Caboose, who's it for?" Dex said.

"This is for you, Agent Washington!" said Caboose, handing Wash the item. Wash smiled at the simple soldier and unwrapped the present. Inside was a crude wooden...

"Dude... is that a cat?" asked Eagle. Wash flushed and shoved the cat back into the box he'd pulled it from.

"Thanks, Caboose," the embarrassed Agent muttered. Dex chuckled and tossed another present at the man.

"Here. Nothing too special, but..." Dex shrugged, unable to find the right words. Wash nodded and opened the package to find a holo-disk. Frowning, Wash activated it. An image of the whole Blue team, helmets discarded, sitting around a card table playing go-fish for pop-tarts popped up. Wash blinked rapidly and set it to the side.

"Thanks Dex. Means a lot," he choked out. Dex smiled and nodded, knowing the other man needed no words. Still, he was a bit surprised when the Agent tossed him a gift in return. Opening it, he found it to be a painting of the beach, occupied by him and his sister. Thankfully, she wasn't in a swim suit. His head snapped and and he stared at the interim Blue Leader. "She posed while Tucker took a photo, before they left Blood Gulch. I just... borrowed it for reference," the man admitted, looking a little nervous. Dex chuckled.

"No need to be so nervous Wash. It means a lot, that you'd make a scene like this," he said softly, looking down and tracing the crest of a wave with a calloused finger. He'd treasure this, he was sure. Wash handed Tucker a package, looking a great deal happier. Tucker quirked an eyebrow, but opened his gift. It was a book titled 'Military Training for Dummies.' It was hand written. By Wash.

"Gee, thanks Wash," Tucker drawled sarcastically. Wash just gave him a jaunty smile and a little wave while Caboose, who seemed to think everyone else had had the spot light for long enough, bounded over to Sarge and presented him with a crudely drawn picture of Dex with a surprisingly precise bulls-eye painted over his smirking face.

"Aw~! You shouldn't have!" Sarge said. Dex growled behind the older man, causing him to flinch. Dex smirked and handed him a package. It was an old Warthog piece painted orange with white lettering. 'Orange means Danger.'

"Just a little reminder, Red," Dex whispered to the Sargent. Sarge swallowed heavily and put the plaque aside. Dex chuckled, then sat back. Eagle got up and gave Rick a pin reading 'World's Best IT Guy.'

"Thanks Eagle," Rick said dryly, pinning the small piece of round metal to his maroon sweater. The sniper smirked and gave a mock bow.

"You're quite welcome," he said. Rick rolled his eyes, but didn't say anymore. Sarge handed him a bag that had a mug inside. It said 'Most Valuable Soldier' down the side with the MVS being bigger than the rest of the words. Rick chuckled and waved it at Doc.

"Hey! Could you hook me up with some cocoa?" he asked. Doc chuckled, but took the mug and filled it with the warm chocolaty goodness. "Ah~! Much thanks! Here, got you something," Rick said, handing the medic a large retganular package.

"You didn't have to," Doc said. Rick chuckled darkly.

"Oh, yes I did," he said, sipping his cocoa. Doc was a bit puzzled, but when he had removed the wrapping paper, he understood.

"Gee, thanks," he said, looking down at 'First Aide for Dummies!' by Agent Black.

"Well, I know the author. And she gladly wrote it, just for you," Rick said. Dex looked over, then burst out laughing.

"Oh! Oh! Ha! Good one Rick!" he huffed. Doc frowned at the laughing soldier.

"I bet you don't know half the things in here," he challenged. Dex grinned at him.

"You'd lose that bet. See, Rick fixes computers, Sarge builds and the subsequently destroys targets, Lopez fixes vehicles, Eagle Eye does the mending, but me? I'm the one they come crying to when they've got a bullet stuck in their side or a gash across their back or a rock through their leg. They can take care of themselves for something a bit more minor, but the big things? They come to me for the big things. And if I can't handle it, I can at least get them stable until Black can get to them. Now, enough about that. It's Christmas! It's a time for joy! Who's next?" the solider said, turning to the rest of the group.

"Here," Doc said, holding out a package to Dex. "Seems even more appropriate after that little speech, I'll admit." Dex blinked down at the unwrapped med kit. He huffed a laugh.

"Mine's probably better, but thanks all the same," he said. Sarge nodded and picked up a long, flat gift.

"Noticed you didn't have one," the gruff man said, tossing it to the medic. Doc frowned as he felt the weight of the item. When the paper fell away he hissed at the combat knife sitting in his hands. "I know yer a passifist, but these are dangerous times. No-one should be without some form of weapon these days," Sarge said. Doc chuckled and set it aside.

"You may be right, Sarge. But, that doesn't mean I have to like it," he said, smiling at the battle hardened man. Sarge nodded and settled back to watch the others.

"Here, these are for you," Rick told Eagle. He nodded to his teammate and opened the box to find a new set of targets.

"Thanks Rick!" Eagle said, grinning down at the fist sized cardboard circles. Rick chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well, as a friend once told me, target practice is a very good stress reliever," he said, grinning over at Dex, who raised his mug in a salute. "Tucker, Caboose, these are for you. Merry Christmas!" he added, getting up and making sure the Blue soldiers got the right gift. Tucker got brand new CDs and Caboose got some more crayons.

"Hey! Thanks Rick!" Tucker said, flipping through the albums.

"Thank you, Mr. Maroon!" Caboose said, hugging his new crayons. Tucker smirked.

"Well, you can double the fun now, Caboose. Merry Christmas buddy," he said, handing him another package. Caboose gasped as he saw the brand new markers Tucker had given him. "ACK! Caboose! Can't. Breath!" Tucker protested as the strong young man hugged him tightly.

"Best. Christmas. EVER!" Caboose cheered. The others all chuckled at his antics before Kai stood up and said,

"Hey Grif! I got something for ya!" she yelled before handing him...

"A gun service kit?! Aw Kai, you know me so well," Dex said hugging her before passing her a box. "Merry Christmas, Lil Sis."

"A Glock G38?! Thanks Grif!" Kai yelled before proceeding to hug her big brother tightly.

"Yeah? Well check out what I got you Kai!" Tucker said, presenting yet another box. Inside was a Curve Blade.

"Awesome! Thanks Tucker!" Kai said happily, dragging a finger down the flat of the curving blade. Dex smiled at his sister.

"I could teach you how to use that, if you'd like," he said, nodding toward the knife. Kai shook her head.

"Nah. I'll pick it up well enough," she told him. He quickly turned to Tucker.

"If she hurts herself with that thing, _you're_ the one I'm going to maim," he growled menacingly. And when a six foot two, two hundred and three pound weapons expert growls at you, it is menacing indeed. Tucker swallowed heavily and nodded furiously. Dex nodded with a growled, 'good' and sat back down.

"Oh! Eagle, here!" Kai said, drawing herself away from her new 'toys' to hand the surprised Sniper a cloth covered box. He opened it... and stared blankly at the sewing kit it contained. Dex chuckled.

"That's Kai for ya," he said. Eagle glared.

"I blame you," he bit out before leaving for more cocoa. Dex just laughed harder, others joining in when they realized what Kai had given to the formerly Pink solider. When Eagle returned, Wash declared it time for dinner and they all enjoyed the large dinner prepared by Rick and Eagle. Then, it was time for carols.

/*/

"That... was the worst rendition of 'Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer... ever. Of all time," Wash said late that night as he staggered back to Blue Base, a half conscious Tucker draped over his shoulder. "And it's not even a Christmas Carol!"

"I liked 'How the Freelancer Saved Christmas,'" Caboose said. Wash sighed.

"That, wasn't a song. That, was a story Dex made up on the spot. Why he made it up, I have no idea," Wash informed him wearily. The childlike soldier ignored him completely and kept going. Wash had to smile at the man. He was so innocent, even after everything he'd been through. It was... sweet, almost. And having a kid who would cheerfully carry everyone's presents all the way back to base from the center of the canyon around was rather nice. After all, Wash had to carry a practically passed out Tucker back. How the man had gotten into said state was a mystery. Surprisingly, there had been no alcohol at the 'party.' Unless Eagle had spiked the punch, but that didn't seem likely. Eagle didn't strike him as the type. But no-one else had handled the punch. It was a grand mystery, and one Wash was content to leave well enough alone. Kai was spending the night with her brother, as she had actually passed out leaning against him. All in all, it had been the best Christmas ever. Of all time.

/?/

A/N: So... not a chapter. SORRY! But, as it's Christmas Day I'm posting on... it seemed right to do this instead.


	6. Episode 5

Disclaimer: I don't own anything of anyone aside from Marley. And some of the Freelancers that Rooster Teeth didn't show. Or, at least, the personalities. The idea isn't mine.

 **Episode 5:** Why are We Here?

Training progressed well for the team over the next six months. After picking up Project Red's armor, she had come by Red Base almost every day to pick up one of more Agents for training. Mostly she trained them in hand-to-hand, though she did throw them into training matches to see how well they could work together. It was quickly apparent that Orange and Maroon worked well together, and that Red was more than a bit much for them. Added to this, she provided them with some limited weapons' training. She was really only a master with her knives and rifle, at least when it came to actively fighting. While she was limited on what she could actually teach her Agents, Marley hoped to find their specialties. Grif quickly claimed the weapons specialist spot when he confirmed Marley's suspicions about his natural talent with weapons. As for the others, Red was a close range beserker with a shotgun and Rick showed promise as an infiltrator. As for what some would call a weapon affinity, Rick favored pistols and knives. This was something Marley could teach him, but when it came to the IT and mechanical, her skills were greatly lacking. She'd have to turn him over to York for that, once she managed to rescue him. She really couldn't wait until she could take the boys to more specialized trainers. Still, things were going really well for Project Red and she had taken them all out on three more missions each, just them and her. "Hey Marley! What are we doing today!" Dex called happily as he came strolling in, armor still in Standard Mode. Marley smiled at the man, snapping from one line of musings to another. Of the lot of them, she felt Grif had grown the most. She couldn't call him a boy or a youth any longer. He was a man, and he was turning out to be a fairly good one.

"I thought we could work on some First Aid today, Dex," she said, holding up her med kit for emphasis. Dex sighed, absentmindedly switching his armor to Agent Mode.

"You know I'm no good at that kind of thing," he said, almost whining. Marley sighed and walked over to the man.

"If you want to survive... you're going to have to learn how to help yourself when there's no medic... no _competent_ medic anyway, around. And Dex..." she sighed, looking away and rubbing her neck. She had no clue how this Grif would react to what she was about to tell him. In the visions, he'd been a crummy Sargent, and an only marginally better 'captain.' But this Grif... Dex... he was different. He was... he was Agent Orange, Weapons Specialist. ' _Perhaps he'll take it well, or at least not shoot it down violently_ ,' she thought. "You're basically my second in command here, Dex. I'm going to be trusting Agents to your care and... I need to know you can handle it. I need to know that if they get hurt when I'm not around to patch them up, you can at least get them stable. Please Dex... please," she said. Dex had been still as a statue through the mini-speech, but now he let out an explosive sigh and sank to the metal floor of The Ghost, helmet tilted up at her.

"Ya gonna get to teaching, or are you going to stand there yapping all day?" he asked. Marley smiled at the teasing lilt to the man's voice and sank to the floor beside him. It was time to commence First Aid training for Agent Orange. Sure Marly wanted all her Agents to at least know the proper method for field treating a wound, but Orange was special for some reason. Maybe it was because she felt he could actually make a decent leader, maybe it was because he gave her the feeling that he'd take a Big Brother type role for his team, but whatever it was, Marley wanted Dex to be a better medic than 'Doc.' Not that that was hard mind you, but still.

/*/

Dex sighed as he stomped off The Ghost an hour and a half later. He shook his head, shoving the Agent to the side and pulling the Slacker forward. He didn't have Split Personality Disorder, Dex wouldn't let himself fracture like that, but there were times where he found himself acting as though Grif and Dex were different people. He knew there were common traits, how could there not be, but at the same time... It was hard, keeping a semi-healthy separation between his two identities, but he managed. He had too. He shook his head once again. "Get a grip, Grif," he told himself. He settled back against his tree and closed his eyes, thinking back over what he'd been told before the lesson. Marley considered him her second in command. Him. Over that Red guy. He could hardly believe it. Was it because he was the first Agent she collected? Or was it something else, something more? Her words echoed in his mind, taunting him. She said she would trust the lives of her Agents to him. She really shouldn't. He couldn't even protect his sister. "Kai," he whispered. What was she doing these days? Did she miss him? What had his family been told? He never got any mail. Not that he really expected any. Their mom ran off when Kai was only ten and their dad began a slow, steady, decline until he reached the level of abusive drunkard. That had been when Kai was twelve. Yep, two years. Grif gave a pained sigh as he thought about his sister. How long had she been left alone with that abusive man? Two years? Three? He couldn't remember. Time seemed to have lost all meaning for him out here in this miserable canyon. He couldn't even remember how long basic had lasted.

"Grif! There you are. Come on, Sarge is about to go ballistic!" Simmons called. Grif sighed and grouched as he got up but really, he was grateful to the maroon soldier. He provided a distraction from the painful thoughts of his family. Sister really. Their parents didn't really do much besides bring them into the world.

"Tell me something I don't know," Grif muttered darkly as he followed his friend back toward the base. Simmons snorted in mild amusement, but remained silent. At least for a moment. Grif reallydidn't think Simmons was going to respond, but the lanky man surprised him.

"We got a teleporter?" Huh. Looks like he just got proved wrong. Eh, bound to happen some times right?

"... Sweet."

"I think Sarge broke it though. Everything we've sent through so far has been covered in steaming black goop," Simmons said, a little uncomfortable. Grif sighed. He could see where this was going.

"Sarge wants a live guinea pig, doesn't he?"

"Well... at least I can fix it once I know whats wrong!"

"Simmons... fix it before I go through. Please," Grif said blandly. Simmons may be a suck-up, and he might act like he wanted Grif dead when around their psychotic Sargent, but Grif actually considered the guy a friend. He was the closest he had in the canyon at any rate. And honestly, the guy didn't seem to genuinely want him dead. It was just him sucking up to Sarge. That... Grif could deal with.

/*/

Simmons winced at Grif's request. He didn't think he could do that. "Sorry Grif. I can't do that. Even if I knew what was wrong with the thing, I don't think I can fix it fast enough for it to be fully operational before Sarge pushes you through," he said. Grif sighed, slumping. Simmons blinked. Wait... he hadn't been slouching before? Looking back, he had been walking a bit like Dex. But that couldn't be... right?

"Eh, worth a shot. Hey, what's the lik..." Grif began, only to be cut off by Sarge yelling for him to hurry up. He groaned and hung his head, dragging his feet even more. Simmons actually smiled a little at the man.

"Come on, it won't be that bad," he said, trying to cheer him up.

"Sarge. Malfunctioning teleporter. Me. Of course it's going to be bad, Simmons. Sarge hates me, remember?" Simmons winced. Yeah, he had a point. Drat. He honestly thought of the other man as a friend. Sure he hated his lazy nature and his messiness, but he was better company than Sarge, that was for sure.

"I'm fairly sure you'll survive the trip at least. Just... be your usual annoying and stubborn self and come out the other side, alright?" Simmons quietly told the other soldier when they got to the aforementioned, oh-so-important, teleporter. He could have sworn Grif flashed him a jaunty grin before jogging – _jogging!_ – through the teleporter. He dashed to the edge of the base and watched eagerly for the man to show up again. Time seemed to drag until...

"Sweet mother of Godiva! That hurt like a bad wipe out! Sarge! If it wasn't so much work, I'd kill you!" Grif shouted, emerging into the canyon... covered in steaming black gunk.

"Okay. So it's obviously a malfunction in the..." Simmons began, before he heard Grif's voice over the helmet radio.

"I have seen... The Other Side. And it is glorious. Come! Join me... on The Other Side..." the orange soldier said in a dreamy, 'enlightened' tone.

"Heck no. I need to fix this..." Simmons began, only for Grif to cut him off again.

"Simmons~! Join~ me~!"

"NO!" the tech snapped. Marley, from her safe vantage point, sighed. There they go again...

/*/

Another seven months and each Agent was sent on a mission with each of the other three Red Agents. Unsurprisingly, Orange and Maroon worked best together. What was surprising in this match up was that Orange was the one to take charge... and do it competently. Honestly, Marly was truly shocked. She was also a little surprised that Simmons still hesitated a little when she turned her voice filter off. It was slight and only for a moment, but he was slightly tense afterward and nothing she did could get him to relax again. It was... irksome. Just as she was getting ready to scream from frustration accrued by thinking of her lack of progress, she saw something... interesting. Chruch had just gone into the Blue Base... and then run up to Flowdie. From the canyon, not the base. She grinned. It was finally time for the Blue Team's Captain, Butch Flowers, to 'die' from a 'heart attack/aspirin overdose.' When Marley came to pick him up, he was rather irritated. And a little freaked out. "Oregon. How did you know?" he asked sharply, completely doing away with his usual overly cheery persona. Marley chuckled, bouncing on her toes.

"About what Flowdie? Church giving you a large injection of aspirin for a supposed heart attack or the cave system?" she asked. Flowers glared, then realized it would have very little effect through his helmet and growled to get the point across.

"Don't play with me, Oregon. How. Did. You. Know!" he bit out. Marley sighed, settling back on her feet.

"Aw~! You're no fun today Flowdie. Alright alright, I'll explain. I had visions. A lot of visions. Years worth. Three, in fact. Though, they spanned longer than that, cutting out extraneous information and day-to-day activities. I only saw the big stuff; major events, battles, Freelancers coming in and blowing stuff up, Wyoming looping, Blue Team drama, Church being Alpha, that sort of thing. Anyway, these caves were a part of it, so, naturally, I saw them. Your death was also major and necessary, and thus, shown to me. Oh and by the way, sorry about that. It was Sarge's robot body for Church that caused Gary, the A.I fragment Gamma, to mess with Church by sending him back in time. And, coincidentally, it was a future!Church that 'killed' you. So, I can't let them know you're alive until the bomb goes off. Don't worry though, we'll be able to follow them fairly easily. The armor I gave the Reds is actually the Mark VI with a few modifications, so they're unlikely to change armor. The good thing about that is, each suit has a tracking unit installed, making it as easy as pushing a button to find any of my Agents. Nice huh?" the black clad woman rattled off cheerily, still bouncing lightly on her toes.

"You... talk a lot more than I remember you doing," Flowers said after a moment, regarding her carefully. In response, Marley chuckled.

"You probably would too if you lived like I have. Besides, I have a lot to tell you. But not right now, no. I'll let you watch for yourself. Probably better that way. I'll point out the big events when they're about to happen so you don't miss 'em though. Most of them seem to focus around Blue Team. Hee, that's actually why I started Project Red to be honest," she said. Flowers sighed and sank to a rock. That was when he noticed his armor.

"Gah! Someone stripped me!" he exclaimed, staring at the regulation blue armor he was now wearing. Marley laughed full out at this.

"Yeah, that would be Tucker. He wanted out of the regulation blue. Good thing he took yours, actually. The new guy that will be coming in, Caboose, he'll be in regulation Blue. He's also a bit of an idiot. Or at least gullible. I think Church tricked him into giving himself brain damage. Though, Tex shooting at O'Malley, also known as Omega, while inside the poor guy's head might have something to do with that as well," she said, sitting down across from him. Flowers shook his head.

"You got coffee on that tin can you call home?" he asked. Marley grinned.

"Sure do. Come on, I even have a new set of armor for you," she said, holding out a hand to him. Sighing, Flowers took it and allowed her to pull him up and out onto her ship.

/*/

Marley was looking over the parameters of their next mission when Flowers walked in, decked out in his new armor. It was basically the same as Marley's, though he had cyan accents and a standard helmet. "Hey! Not bad Flowdie, you actually look kinda intimidating!" the pilot said cheerfully.

"Yeah yeah, sure. So, what'cha doin'?" Flowers asked, looking at the board. Marley sighed and ran a hand through her hair, helmet discarded while aboard her ship.

"Looking over this mission. I don't think you and I are gonna be able to pull it off. Not alone," she said. Flowers looked it over, then shook his head.

"For that, we're going to need someone like South," he said. Marly winced.

"Yeah. I was afraid of that," she said. Flowers frowned for a moment, then snapped his fingers.

"I got it! How about one of you Agents? Project Red right?" he asked, seeing this as the perfect solution.

"Sure but... they'll be getting the Warthog soon, and then it's only a few days until the rookies show up, and then it's only, like, a day and a half until Tex shows up and then she's only around for at the most a week before she gets blasted by... Yeah. I was hoping I wouldn't have to take Orange, but he's the best suited for this mission out of those near enough to be considered. Drat. Okay. You, stay out of the way while I pick him up. I don't want to have that confrontation on my ship and when, and how, I reveal you to Maroon is likely to see him muttering about knives and bullets in uncomfortable places for a while after we leave and I really..." she rattled off, already walking toward the docking bay where The Ghost rested.

"Oregon! You're rambling," Flowers cut in. Marley took a deep breath, then slowly let it out.

"You're on pilot duty. Like I said, I don't want to get the Reds to suspicious of each other. Not yet. They'll find out eventually but... not yet," she said and left it at that. Flowers sighed, but followed. He was always following her, one way or another. A few hours later, Orange was staring down at the inhospitable alien world impassively.

"So... basically what we do every time? Go in guns blazing, set a charge, come out guns blazing and screaming our lungs out?" he asked. Black nodded, giving her gun one last check. Orange sighed, then grabbed the rung near the door. "I don't get paid enough for this kind of junk," he said, then Black punched the door controls and they were plummeting to the ground. Just another mission.

/*/

It was over, the objective completed, and once again, he was bleeding. This time, however, he was also one big bruise. He'd been caught in the blast back of the explosion he, ironically enough, had set. Because he was caught in the radius of said blast, he'd flown through the air before slamming through two trees and fetching up against a large boulder with painful force. If that doesn't cause bones to break and capillaries to burst, Dex didn't know what did. "Sorry, Dex. I didn't mean..." Marley began, holding out a couple of painkillers.

"No-one really means for their comrades to get hurt, Marley, relax. It hurts like the mother of all wipe outs, but I'll live. You said it yourself. Now stop whining! You know Blood Gulch is as good as a vacation for me," he said, cutting her off, before knocking back the pills.

"What about Sarge?" Marley asked, wondering if the southerner would count as a health hazard to the laid back Hawaiian.

"Okay. I could do without him. He has all the contingency plans starting with either him or Simmons shooting me! Not cool. But! Aside from Sarge, who I can avoid fairly well, I'm in the clear," Dex said, giving the Doctor a pained smile. Marley shook her head, but he could see she was smiling softly at him. Even if she didn't want to be. ' _Good old Grif family charm, working it's magic._ '

"Alright. Fine. But you've got to take it easy! You didn't break a rib, thankfully, but you've still lost a lot of blood from that bullet to the side and more bruises than I care to remember. You're going to be stiff and achy for a while, so no gymnastics. And no training! Training doesn't count as taking it easy. And yes, target practice counts as training," she told him sternly. He chuckled and saluted.

"Yes ma'am, Agent Black ma'am!" he said with a chuckle, breaking it off with a wince a his injuries reminded him they were there. "Ow."

"I'm removing the limiter on your advanced health suite in your armor. It'll keep the pain under control, but it can't take all the pain away. Listen to your body, don't push it too hard, and you'll do just fine," Marley said, shaking her head at the man as she enabled full use of the advance health suite.

"I'll keep that in mind Marley," Dex said quietly before slipping into a healing sleep. Marley sighed and hugged herself while looking down at his mildly pained face.

"I didn't want to do this too you Dex," she whispered.

"We'll be touching down in an hour. I suggest you get some rest, Marley. You'll be no good to anyone if you run yourself into the ground," Flowers said from the doorway where he had watched with kind eyes as she treated her Agent. Marley sighed, but left the sleeping Agent and headed to her own quarters. Flowers took up a silent vigil over the wounded soldier outside the door, hidden from his view should he wake. "You're not half bad, Dex. And to be honest, I'm much rather have you watching my back than South," the former Blue Captain whispered. An hour seemed to pass like a minute and Marley was helping Dex out of the ship and to his favorite, hidden, napping spot. A few minutes later, Grif sighed and dragged himself to his feet.

"Time to check in," he muttered. "Ow, if only the Blues would blow themselves up, then I could just lock myself in my room until I've healed up a bit."

/*/

Four days later, Grif and Simmons were griping to each other on top of the base, about six hours after sunrise. Over the last year or so, the two had given up figuring each other out and added to the Blood Gulch illusion. Simmons decided that, in Blood Gulch, he would write Grif off as lazy and constantly hungry with one killer metabolism that prevented him from getting fat, completely disregarding the times he had seen the man in shorts and a tank top after his shower, showing muscles that spoke of long hours training. Likewise, Grif had decided to write Simmons off as a fun to annoy geek, completely ignoring the times he had caught Simmons while he absentmindedly played with a knife, or the times the 'geek' knocked him on his back when still half asleep. It was a strange game of hate/annoy/underestimate/insult/respect, but it worked for them. And as long as they weren't trying to kill each other, they were cool with it. "Hey" Simmons began.

"Hum?" Grif acknowledged, turning to his 'friend.'

"You ever wonder why we're here?"

"That... is one of life's great mysteries, isn't it?" the orange clad soldier began before going off on a philosophical tangent about fate and the hand of God on people's lives. While Grif talked, Simmons could only stare at the orange soldier and wonder, did he always think like that?

"No I mean, why are we here, in this canyon?" Simmons clarified. If his helmet had been off, Simmons was certain Grif would have had a rather flustered look on his face.

"Oh."

"What was all that about God?"

"Nothing," Grif replied. Simmons quirked an eyebrow. Was there a chance that Grif would be receptive to Jesus?

"You... want to talk about it?" he asked, semi-hopeful

"No." Bummer. That could have been such a great segway into the Gospel. Oh well. Maybe another time.

/*/

Sarge listened to his soldiers from below, smirking to himself. Like Simmons, Sarge had decided to disregard Grif, but there were times where he had to acknowledge that the man was smarter than he let on. And, likewise, he had to admit that Simmons could be more simple and straight forward than his usual manner suggested. "Well, seems like they've got things under control out there. Time to go get my jeep!" Sarge said, running out of the base to receive the shipment from command. He was pretty sure they said something about a rookie too, but he hadn't heard much past 'jeep,' 'full tank of gas,' and 'gun turret.' In his mind, those were more important than a rookie any day of the week.

/*/

From the cloaked spaceship above the box canyon, Captain Butch Flowers sighed as he watched his former team. Marley may have been bad with computers, but hacking into the live feed from the hidden cameras Freelancer had placed around the canyon wasn't to hard. Church seemed to have stepped up to take command of Tucker, but it just... didn't seem right. And Tucker had stolen his armor! Little armor thief. Oh, how he missed that cyan armor! It had served him well. "Oh stop pining! You sound like a teenaged girl when you do that!" Marly shouted from the kitchen. Captain Flowers sighed again, wincing as he realized he'd been thinking out loud. Again.

"I can't help it! That's my team down there!" ' _And my armor! Little armor thief._ ' Marley shook her head and brought out a mug of coffee for him and a cup of Earl Grey tea for herself. Sitting down by the window, she held out the coffee. Flowers took it and took a good sip.

"Church is gonna get blown up within the next two weeks or so," Marley stated, disinterested, looking down on the two Teams like an unfeeling chess master. Flowers gaped at her, helmet forgotten by his feet.

"You know the Alpha is going to be blown up... and you're just gonna sit here... drinking tea... while it happens?!" he squawked. Marley chuckled, sipping her tea.

"Yes. His 'death' is the catalyst for the 'fun,' Flowdie. Church gets blasted by friendly fire, Tex gets called in, Church comes back as a 'ghost' to warn his team about Tex, and then... events are put into motion that will lead to these Sim. Troopers being the greatest team of soldiers in the galaxy and ending a civil war of epic proportions. Not to mention the end of Project Freelancer, the death of the Director, and the complete and utter downfall of the Chairman. Trust me, Church has to get blown up," she said, sipping on her tea like a Bond villian. Flowers could do nothing but gape at her.

"And you're telling me this now?! After over a year?!" he asked, waving his hands around in a very agitated manner. Marley chuckled. Again. Flowers glared. It was surprisingly effective, especially from a man named Flowers. His steel gray eyes stared into your soul while his close cropped brown hair bristled even as his slightly longer bangs dipped down toward his eyes. Flowers had a strong jaw and commanding presence... when he tried. Otherwise, he was just your run of the mill calm, happy, lean soldier. Which really wasn't that run of the mill, but who cares. Not Marley.

"Oh, I've known for a long time Flowdie," she said, seemingly without care.

"Not that! I meant after me knowing you were actually, secretly, alive for a year! Longer even!" he clarified, still glaring. Marley chuckled yet again.

"Anyone ever tell you you're fun to tease?" she asked, quirking her eyebrow at him as she sipped her tea. She could have sworn he blushed so hard he glowed. Oh yes. Captain Butch Flowers was a very fun man to tease. He was just so easy to rile up!

/*/

Meanwhile, on a cliff over looking Red Base, Church and Tucker were doing what they did just about every day. Spying on the Reds instead of shooting them or actively trying to blow their base up. "What are they doing?" Tucker asked. Church turned to him, the sniper rifle he was using as binoculars swinging around to point at the other Blue.

"What?!" he asked, as though he were offended Tucker would ask such a thing.

"Well I don't have the sniper rifle! So I have to ask you what the Reds are up to," Tucker shot back, as though it were the most logical thing in the world. In fact, it might well have been the most logical thing in the world. Or at least Blood Gulch. Marley considered it fact that one had to be at least mildly insane to survive in Blood Gulch for any length of time. Flowers was leaning toward agreeing, but that would mean he was calling himself mildly insane, so he didn't. He was perfectly sane thank-you-very-much! It wasn't like he was seeing dancing chickens or anything. And those chickens _defiantly_ didn't have teeth. No sir.

"Look, they're just standing there talking. That's all their doing. That's all they _ever_ do! And I'm getting really, really, tired of answering that dratted question!" Church growled, suddenly having his pistol in his hands instead of his sniper rifle. One must forgive Church his surliness. It was about the seventh time that day Tucker had asked. Tucker had a tendency to be a bit annoying. Still, said _cyan_ soldier wasn't too worried. By now, he knew Church was a terrible shot.

"... What are they talking about?" Tucker asked after a moment, proving he wasn't worried by the pistol his teammate was _almost_ aiming at him. Chances were, even if Church _wasn't_ aiming at him, not a single bullet would even get near him. Church sighed and turned back to the Reds.

"Ya know what? I really hate you," he said. Tucker knew there was nothing to say to that, so he turned back to the Red Base, wondering what they were saying.

/*/

Back at Red Base, Grif and Simmons were continuing their conversation on the stupidity of having a Red Base in blood Gulch when there was no reason to have a base there. So what if Blue Army had two bases in a box canyon in the middle of nowhere? It was a box canyon in the middle of nowhere! "Talk about a waste of resources," Grif drawled, "I mean, we should be out there finding new and intelligent forms of life. Ya know, fight them!" Simmons nodded.

"Yea, no duh. That's why they should put us in charge," he said. Just then, Sarge returned.

"Ladies! Front and center on the double!" he called up to them. Simmons sighed while Grif muttered something about fudge and ladies. Simmons really didn't want to know.

"Yes sir!" he called before heading down to where Sarge was. Grif sighed.

"Ugh, now I have to walk all the way back down to the canyon floor," he muttered. Shaking his head and putting thoughts of his orders to rest aside, Grif headed down to see what Sarge wanted. He hissed as the stress of walking aggravated the bullet wound in his side and the bone deep bruises on his back. He could swear he still heard a ringing in his left ear from the concussive force of the blast that had knocked him flying. Stupid bombs. Evil aliens. Dratted needlers. A pox on all bad aimers. May their bacon burn. Oh, but his back hurt!

/*/

Back up in her space ship, ignoring a glaring Flowers, Marly was beginning to bounce. "It's here! It's here! The Warthog is here! Oh, the show is beginning, the show is beginning!" she sang. Flowers growled at her.

"Would you shut up and explain to me just what the heck is going on here?!" he asked, still upset over her withholding information for so long. Marley chuckled evilly, complete with evil hand rubbing.

"Oh, soon, soon Flowdie, soon you shall see that my dreams were real. They were real! The proof is right before you!" she said, pointing down at Red Base where the team was gathering around a Warthog. "Soon, Private Franklin Delano Doughnut will arrive. Then Private Michel J. Caboose and Sheila the Battle Tank. And then! Church will get shot by the tank, Tex will come and then! Oh~! Then! Then the show _really_ begins!" she said, a touch of madness creeping into her voice as she continued her 'evil villain' monologue. Flowers sighed, but as he looked back over to her... all those unspoken feelings he'd had when she was still Agent Oregon came flooding back.

"I never said it before, Marley," he said, glancing down at his empty coffee cup, "but I..."

"Please don't tell me you love me, Flowdie," Marley cut in. "If you say you love me, you'd be lying. You thought you loved Oregon. I'm not Agent Oregon anymore. So please, don't say it," she said, voice soft and pleading. Flowers sighed and took her empty tea mug.

"You may say it's a lie, but to me," he said, standing to go to the kitchen, "it'll always be the truth." Marley sighed and dropped her head into her hands as Flowers vanished further into the ship with their dirty mugs.

"Oh Flowdie. You don't really know a thing about me. About Marlene. About Oregon. Or about Black. And the more you learn... the less you'll care," she muttered, looking at her hands. The hands that in another life had been pledged to the care and treatment of others, hands that had been drenched in blood since she was fifteen, one way or another. "I've broken more than just my Hippocratic oath, Flowdie, and that... that's a sin I'll always have to bear," she softly muttered, tears gathering in her eyes as she laid her head in her sin stained hands.

/*/

Butch Flowers busied himself with washing their mugs, trying to get the image of an emotionally broken Agent Black out of his head. Her words echoed in his ears and he scrubbed at the mugs with an added fervor. "I don't care about her past. I care about her! Her smile, her laugh, her wit, her ability to confuse anyone and everyone while still being a tactical genius. I love her healing touch, the genuine care she showed toward the other Agents, the respect she had for our enemies, the honor she held on to till the very end. Though, I suppose, she still hasn't let go. She may think I don't know. She may believe I fell in love with a dream. But if this is a dream, I don't ever want to wake up. Even if it turns to a nightmare, I don't want to wake up. Because a world without her... it just isn't worth it," he said. He thought back to the dull, worthless years where he believed her dead and shivered. He never wanted to go back there. Never again.

/?/

A/N: Okay. Confession time. I had to go back and watch webisode one of RvB for this one. Gotta keep that 'why are we here?' dialog, even if I didn't type it word for word. And I edit. Heavily. Swearing is only permissible when in excruciating pain or jumping out of an airplane. Then a swear word or two is tolerable and really, there's not much you can do to keep them from popping up in your head and then it's not much easier keeping them there.

A/N 2: So, I re-edited this chapter. Added some stuff, took some stuff out, ya know, the usual editing type things. I think it works better this way. 8/12/16


	7. Episode 6

Disclaimer: Don't. Own. Red Vs Blue. Or Halo. I do own Marly, but she's got her own security system. Wait... maybe other characters do to and that's why they run away with us! Eh, it's a theory.

 **Episode 6:** The Delivery, The Debate, The Rookies

"Hurry up ladies, this ain't no ice cream social," Sarge grunted at his soldiers as they came running up.

"Ice cream social?" asked Simmons, Grif glancing over. The larger man shrugged slightly, just as perplexed as his comrade, but continued down the ramp.

"Stop the pillow talk you two," Sarge said. Simmons shuddered slightly, glad the look of disgust was hidden by his visor. Pillow talk? With Grif? Ugh. He did not need those mental images.

"If I were to engage in pillow talk, it wouldn't be with Simmons, and it wouldn't be about ice cream socials. More like... BBQ or... something. Not ice cream socials," Grif muttered. Simmons grinned. Grif's mic may have been turned off, but the two were standing fairly close. And Simmons had good ears.

"Anyone want to guess why I've gathered you here today?" Sarge asked when Grif and Simmons were in front of him.

"Is it because the war is over and you're sending us home?" Grif asked optimistically, though with a dose of skepticism. Simmons couldn't help but smirk slightly.

"That's exactly it, Private. War's over. We won. Turns out your the big hero, and we're gonna hold a parade in your honor. I get to drive the float, and Simmons here is in charge of confetti!" Sarge said, words heavily laced with sarcasm. Grif sighed softly.

"I'm no stranger to sarcasm sir," he said. Simmons couldn't quite identify the emotion in his voice. Amusement? Annoyance? Bemusement? Or was _that_ sarcasm as well? Ah yes, Grif was a great big ball of contradictions. Hey look! Sarge is talking!

"Gosh darn it Private! Shut your mouth or I'll have Simmons slit your throat while you're asleep!" the man growled. Simmons winced, but adopted a willing tone of voice.

"Oh, I'd do it too," he said, putting malicious joy behind them, wincing all the while. They may have an odd sort of friendship, but they were friends in a way. Still, there were times when he'd like to hurt the lazy soldier.

"I know you would, Simmons. Good man. Couple of things today ladies! Command has seen fit to increase our ranks here at Blood Gulch outpost number one!" Sarge said, plowing right ahead.

"Oh crusts. We're getting a rookie," Grif groused. Simmons couldn't help but agree. Sure they were barely better themselves, officially, but still. He wasn't sure if he could stand a fresh rookie.

"That's right dead man! Our new recruit will be here within the week, but today, we received the first part of our shipment from command," Sarge said. Simmons shared a look with Grif. Was that excitement in Sarge's voice? Ho boy. This was going to be good. Note: sarcasm. "Lopez! Bring up the vehicle," Sarge said, turning to the hill. Grif and Simmons turned to see their brown teammate drive over in a... what was that? It. Was. Beautiful!

"Shotgun!"

"Shotgun! Fudge!" Grif said. Simmons grinned. Oh yeah, he called shotgun. Wait... did that mean 'front passenger' or 'gun turret' on this thing? Hum... shotgun might not be the best in this case. Ah fudge it. If it meant 'gun turret' at least he'd get to shoot things with a mini gun. ' _That's a rather Dex-like thought isn't it?_ ' a little voice piped up in the back of his mind, sounding rather like the weapons expert. He forced the voice back into that darkened part of his consciousness that held Rick and focused back on the matter at hand.

"May I introduce our new light recon vehicle!" Sarge said proudly before he began to list the features of the new jeep. "Gentlemen! This is the M12LRV! I like to call it the Warthog!" Sarge finished. Simmons blinked. Warthog?

"Why a warthog sir?" Simmons asked, unwittingly taking the question from his teammate's mouth.

"Because M12LRV is too hard to say in conversation son," Sarge explained like it was the easiest thing in the world to understand.

"No but, why a warthog?" Grif asked. "I mean, it doesn't really look like a pig."

"Say that again?!" Sarge demanded, his dislike of the lazy soldier coming out.

"I think it looks more like a puma," Grif said, looking straight at his CO. Simmons' smirk was back, and it was just a little bigger than before.

"What in Sam Hill is a puma?" Sarge asked. Simmons chuckled to himself. Grif was right, but the IT geek saw a perfect opportunity to mess with his teammate, and decided to just side with Sarge. Besides, it fit with his cover as an annoying suck up. Not to mention messing with Grif was one of his all time favorite pass times.

"What, you mean like the shoe company?" he asked, snickering as Grif reacted by trying to explain what a puma was. Classic comedy, right there. Maybe he should quite the army and become a stand up comedian! Eh. No. Best stick with what he knew.

"You're making that up," Sarge said, drawing Simmons attention back to the matter at hand.

"No! It's a real animal!" Grif insisted.

"Simmons, I want you to poison Grif's next meal," Sarge ordered. Simmons' smirk shifted into something a bit more devious. He knew Grif was trying to build immunities to some poisons. He also knew which ones and how to get said poisons.

"Yes Sir!" he chirped, already selecting one he knew Grif had already built an immunity to. Sarge just said 'poison,' he didn't mention it had to be deadly to the orange slacker. Sarge then went on to explain why he named the jeep 'the warthog.' Simmons couldn't resist chuckling inside his muted helmet when Grif responded to Sarge's question of 'what animal has tusks?' with a perfectly deadpan, 'a walrus.' The timing! The delivery! Priceless. Comedy. Gold.

"Didn't I just tell you to stop making up animals!" Sarge yelled in frustration. Simmons wondered if it was really possible to bruise a rib from holding in laughter. If it was, he'd already bruised two.

/*/

Meanwhile, on the cliff...

"What is that thing?" Tucker asked, noticing the jeep. Church shrugged, sniper rifle bobbing as he did so.

"I don't know. It ah, it looks like they got some kinda car down there," he said, switching back out to his pistol, "We better get back to base and report it."

"A car?!" Tucker asked, shocked and appalled, "how come they get a car?" Church turned to his teammate, incredulous.

"What are you complaining about man? We're about to get a tank in the very next drop," he said.

/*/

Aboard the Phantom, Marley was nearly cackling. "Didn't I tell you, Flowdie!?" she asked, eyes bright. The man crossed his arms with a huff, glaring into the middle distance.

"That doesn't. Prove. Anything!" he bite out. Now the love of his life really was cackling.

"Sure it does. If I'm right about the tank, I'm right about other things. Like the Warthog," she pressed.

"You saw that dropped off!" he countered, turning to her with determination. She blinked at him, an innocent act that fooled no-one, least of all Flowdie.

"... So?" she asked, pouring as much innocence into the two letters as she could.

"GAH!" her target exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

"Heehee~! So. Fun. to. Mess with!" she declared with a laugh, expertly ignoring his glare.

"... Sometimes... I wonder why I love you so much," he revealed, standing an walking away. He couldn't go far, seeing as they were in a spaceship, but it was the thought that counted.

"It's cause you're a hippie," Marley decided.

"I'm not a hippie!" Flowdie called back.

"Shut up Hippie, they're still talking," Marley ordered, directing her attention fully to the screens before her.

"You started it!" Flowdie bellowed.

"Talking~!" Marley sang.

"GAH!"

"Hee~!"

/*/

Church gaped at his teammate. Did he really mention picking up chicks?! They were in the middle of freakn' no where! "Oh ya know what, you could moan about anything, couldn't you?" he settled on saying. "We're going to get a tank, and your worried about chicks. What chicks are we gonna pick up man?! And secondly, how are you going to pick up chicks in a car that looks like that?"

"Well, what kinda car is it?" Tucker asked.

"I don't know, I've never seen a car like that before. It looks like, like a uh, like a big cat of some kind."

"What, like a puma?"

"Yeah man, there ya go."

/*/

"Wait. Did Alpha just call the warthog a puma?" Flowdie asked, walking back in with a large mug of coffee.

"All hail Church, the Contradictor of Sarge and Master of Angry Sarcasm," Marley declared, spreading her arms wide and bowing toward the screen with all the dramatic actor.

"Those... are not real titles," Flowdie deadpanned. Marley waved a distracted hand at him.

"Shut up Flowdie. They fit. Don't rain on my parade," she demanded.

"You... are insane," Flowdie decided.

"Aw~! You do notice me!" Marley declared, spinning around to face him, arms once more spread wide. He sighed, slumping over.

"... Why do I love you so much again?" he asked himself.

"Because I don't try to kill you every time you open your mouth," Marley remarked with a smirk and she turned back to the screens.

"Is that what they were doing? I thought they just couldn't wait to spar with me," Flowdie said, causing Marley to stare at him for a moment before telling him,

"... You're an idiot."

"Shush. Red guy talking," Flowdie said, pointing at the Red Team monitor.

"Yea~ha! Now you're getting it!" Marley cheered, turning back toward said screen.

"... "

"Welcome to Red Vs Blue Flowdie. Welcome."

"Stop the show please, I'd like to get off," he said drily. Marley laughed at him.

"You're stuck with me Flowdie. Deal with it," she told him with a devious smirk.

"Drat."

/*/

"So unless anyone has any more mythical creatures to suggest as a name for the new vehicle, we're gonna stick with 'the warthog,'" Sarge finally said. Simmons had gotten his chuckles(because he _does not_ giggle) under control and was ready for this to be over. Sadly, Sarge had to poke the dozing humor dragon with a gruff, "How 'bout it, Grif?"

"No sir, no more suggestions." Holy shiitake mushrooms! Grif actually sounded sad! Was he really that sensitive? _'Maybe I should let up on him. I mean, he really sounds depressed. Should I tell him I agree the jeep looks more like a puma than a warthog later? No. That might just make it worse. Dang it Grif! Keep your emotions hidden under a veneer of sarcasm would ya?! Makes things like this easier on the rest of us!_ ' Simmons thought, looking at the somewhat downcast soldier.

"Are you sure? How 'bout bigfoot?" Sarge asked.

"It's okay," Grif said, still sounding a bit sad, but not as depressed as before. Huh. Was he recovering already, or developing that sarcasm shield?

"Unicorn?"

"Not really, um, I'm cool." ' _Oh man! He's still really down! What the heck?! What caused this?! Was it really that big a blow to his confidence that we called a puma mythical?_ '

"Sasquatch?" Sarge asked. Simmons had to follow along, though he determined to help Grif over this afterward.

"Leprechaun?" he asked.

"Hey, he doesn't need any help man," Grif said, sounding a little less sad and more like he was talking about a mental patient. Huh. Simmons could deal with that. He though Sarge was a bit mental himself.

"Phoenix," Sarge said, continuing to list mythical creatures. Grif let out a put upon sigh and Simmons couldn't help but sympathize. Sarge was hard to handle at the best of times and the best of moods. Neither of which seemed to apply to Grif at the moment, if ever. "Hey Simmons, what's the name of that Mexican lizard? Eats all the goats?" Sarge asked. Oh oh! He knew this one.

"Uh... chupracbra, sir," he replied. He could have sworn Grif was glaring at him through his orange visor.

"Hey Grif! Chupathingy. How bout that? I like it. Got a ring to it." Oh mercy, will it ever end?!

"I just want to say, I am so sorry Grif. I didn't think he'd drag it out this long," Simmons muttered to his teammate/almost friend. Grif sighed.

"If only I could get away with pistol whipping him right across the face. It's amazing what a quick pistol whip to the face can accomplish," he muttered back. Simmons smirked.

"Yeah. I sometimes think of shooting him in the thigh," he confessed. Grif jerked his head toward him with a startled half-laugh.

"Cold man. Cold," he said, sounding torn between delivering it deadpan, and chuckling.

"Hey. Ya do what ya gotta do," Simmons defended with a shrug.

"True that bruh. True that," Grif gave in with a nod.

"Hey! What are you two yapping about?!" Sarge demanded.

"Nothing!" the two Privates chirped, nigh on identical 'innocent' smirks hidden behind their visors. Sometimes, they were very, very grateful to be wearing full face helmets.

/*/

"This... is what the whole show... that burned itself into your brain... was like?" Flowdie asked, staring at the Reds. Marley chuckled, throwing an arm around his tense shoulders.

"More or less," she informed him, her smirk growing just a little when he slumped. "It gets better. Oh ho ho boy, does it get better. Grif get's a Brute Shot off of Maine who got taken over by the A.I. Fragment Sigma and around the same time, Wash joins the Blues of Blood Gulch," she rambled, making about as much sense as the mission of Project Freelancer. Man, that thing was so secret, no-one knew what it really was.

"Really? Wow. Who da thought?" Flowdie remarked. Seriously, Wash joining the Blues? _Grif_ taking something from _Maine?!_

"Yep. Pret~ty cool. Let's see... next exciting thing is... the rookies! Whee! Okay, so, we have about a week to kill. Let's spy on the Blues!" Marley chirped, already switching feeds.

"Oh UNSC no. I don't want to watch them completely forgetting about me and replacing me with that little armor thief," Flowdie lamented, though Marley noted that he wasn't looking away.

"Flowdie... you got issues," she deadpanned.

"Yeah. I pretended to overdoes on _aspirin!_ Administered by my own _subordinate!_ Whose really an A.I. Based off of the Di..." Flowdie said, getting ready to go into a full on rant when Marley slapped a hand over his mouth.

"Shush! Too many spoilers already!" she hissed at him. He gave her a disbelieving look and waited until she removed her hand to ask,

"Spoilers? Who are we spoiling it for?! And what are we spoiling?"

"Red Vs Blue noobs. It's always the noobs Flowdie. _Always the noobs!_ " Marley informed him solemnly. He shook his head at the woman.

"... Have I told you today that you're insane?" he asked.

"Yes. Yes you have. Cookie?" Marley responded, holding out a plate of cookies that had appeared out of nowhere.

"Are they kooky?" Flowdie asked, eying the plate curiously.

"You bet your needler they are!" she responded cheerily.

"I'll take two," he said.

"Sweetness," Marley replied with a grin and handed the man two cookies before setteling back down to enjoy the show.

/*/

 _Roughly three days later, on top of Red Base..._

Simmons and Grif were arguing over the of events sometime who-knows-when, just your typical day at Red Base, when some new guy in regulation red comes up and interrupts them. Semi polite. He at least called them 'sirs.' "Sirs?! Oh fudge," Grif said as they turned.

"I was told to report to Blood Gulch Outpost number 1 and speak to whoever is in charge," the new guy said. Grif chuckled to himself.

"Sorry man, Sarge is at command getting orders. No-body's in command here," he said, smirking under his helmet. Simmons scoffed and turn to his teammate.

"Actually Grif, he left me in charge," he informed his teammate.

"You are such a suck up," Grif said, turning his helmet toward the maroon soldier. Simmons quirked a hidden eyebrow.

"How is that relevant?" he asked.

"You suckered Sarge into leaving you in charge," Grif answered in his usual bland manner.

"Maybe he just figured you were too lazy and decided to leave someone who wouldn't let the Blues waltz right in to command the base," Simmons countered. Grif snorted and turned away.

"Suck up.

"Slacker."

"Geek."

"Ya know, he also told that if you gave me any trouble I was to, ahem, 'get in the Warthog and crush your head like a tomato can,'" Simmons added, trying and failing to mimic Sarge's rough southern accent. Grif could do nothing but stare at Simmons for a moment.

"That... was the worst impression ever," he said, mildly shocked that Simmons would even attempt to impersonate Sarge. It was just... Sarge! And Simmons! It, it just didn't mix!

"Okay rookie, what's your story," Simmons said, ignoring Grif. Said soldier gave into his immature side and stuck his tongue out at the other man. It wasn't like anyone could see the gesture anyway.

"Private Doughnut, reporting for duty sir," the new guy said, "ready to fight some aliens." Simmons sighed. Ah, those were the days. Sadly, he'd been too late for the main conflict and any fighting with the aliens had been isolated pockets of resistance.

"Couple of things there rookie," Grif began, "first off, Private Doughnut? Someone needs a new nick-name. Secondly, what's with the armor color?" Simmons couldn't but agree with his lazy teammate. He couldn't take a guy named Doughnut very seriously at all. The only thing worse would be if his armor had been pink. No way was he taking a man dressed in pink armor and going by the name of Doughnut seriously. At all. Ever.

"This is the standard issue red," the rookie said, clearly not seeing anything wrong with it. Simmons sighed and relaxed in his armor. Grif could handle this one.

"I know. Listen, only two kinds of people wear standard red armor. Officers, and recruits. And since you're not threatening to gut me like a fish, you're obviously not an officer. Which makes you a rookie," Grif explained, taking on the condescending tone of a man who knows he's right and sees the person he's talking to as possessing limited mental capability.

"Well, he's wearing red armor," Doughnut tried to deflect, motioning toward Simmons. Said soldier snorted.

"Yeah, no. My armor is maroon," Simmons said, voice heavily laden with condescension, " _your_ armor is red."

"Well how do I get a different color armor?" Doughnut asked, clearly getting fed up with the senior soldiers.

"I bet the Blues don't have to put up with this sort of thing," Simmons moaned. Grif rolled his eyes.

"Wouldn't count on it, Simmons. Wouldn't count on it," he remarked dryly. Chances were, if they got a rookie, the Blues were too.

/*/

"Don't say it," Flowdie ground out, watching the Pelican approaching the Blue Base.

"Killjoy," Marley pouted, crossing her arms and glaring at the man.

"Madwoman."

"Why thank you!"

"U`u`u`u`gh."

"Hee~!"

/*/

Tucker could practically feel the irritation flowing off his cobalt companion as the new guy went on and on about the tank and the ship and ships with guns. So, in order to prevent team killing, Tucker turned to the new guy with an order to shut up. "Ya know," Church began, voice wistful as he continued to stare at the tank, "I could blow up the entire world with this thing." Tucker didn't necessarily disagree, but he was a little unnerved by the rapturous tone his teammate's voice had taken on.

/*/

Flowdie could do nothing but stare at the screen, flabbergasted. Marley was unable to contain her cackles. "Alpha... why?" the man asked, slowly lowering his head into his hands.

"Hee~hee~."

"Why have you gone total jerk psycho?" he asked, despite knowing that Alpha couldn't hear him.

"All hail Flowdie, the Pathetic Piner for That Which Never Was!" Marley declared dramatically, gesturing grandly toward the man. He slowly raised his head from his hands and glowered at the woman.

"Sometimes, I really hate you," he muttered darkly. She paid it no heed and popped some popcorn into her mouth.

"Oh look! Simmons is talking to Doughnut! Whom I predicted!" she said, pointing at the figures down below.

"And I still say, that doesn't prove anything," Flowide contested.

"I was right about Church giving you aspirin for a supposed heart attack, wasn't I?" Marley prompted. Flowdie remained silent, though his eyes spoke death. "Boo-yah! Point for the Black Lady!"

"... Sometimes... I wonder if you're the same woman I knew aboard The Valiant," Flowdie remarked, dragging himself back upright.

"I'm really not," Marley quietly insisted. Flowdie shook his head.

"Shut up. You are too."

"*Sigh* Never giving up huh?" Marley asked with a wry smile. Flowdie returned it and declared,

"Never."

/*/

Simmons turned to Doughnut, intending to buy a few minutes, possibly hours, of relative peace before he'd have to deal with the not-so-bright noob. "I just refuse to call him Private Doughnut," Grif muttered softly. Simmons thought there was a tint of disbelief in the young man's voice. He really wasn't much better when it came to the poor boy's name. Doughnut was almost as bad as Flowers!

"We've got a very important mission for you. You think you can handle it?" Simmons asked. Doughnut responded with an eager 'yes sir!' and Simmons sent him off to look for the store, and when he got to the store, to get some elbow grease. Grif contributed with an equally bogus request for headlight fluid for the 'puma.'

"What?" Doughnut asked. Simmons smiled wryly under his helmet. So, Grif still hadn't let go of the whole 'looks like a puma' thing, huh? Maybe he could still have some fun with that

"He means the Warthog," the maroon solider clarified. As Doughnut ran off toward the fictitious store, Simmons asked Grif, "How long?"

"Couple of hours. A week, tops," Grif said, looking at the unrepentant Simmons. Some way from the base, Doughnut looked back and scoffed.

"Elbow grease?" he groused, "How dumb do they think I am? When I get back with that headlight fluid, I'm gonna have a word with the Sargent." Back at base, Simmons turned to Grif.

"Think we were too hard on him?"

"Naw. Wandering around on the cliffs for a few hours might do him good. What kind of trouble is he going to get into?"

"Huh. Good point." The two resumed staring out at the canyon. ' _Man I wish Marley would come with a mission for me_ ,' they thought.

/*/

Over at Blue Base, Church and Tucker had been talking about chicks and tanks, with their new teammate, Caboose, annoying them with his honest attempts to be included in the conversation. None of the three noticed the red soldier making his way over to their base.

/*/

"He doesn't honestly think Blue Base is the store... does he?" Flowdie asked Marley. She shrugged.

"Flowdie, Doughnut was one of the more gullible characters in the series. But don't worry! We'll be kidnapping him before long and then, we can work on that gullibility. And seeming lack of common sense. Honestly, Caboose is worse. Though, that might be brain damage from attempts to shut him up and Tex shooting at O'Mally, AKA A.I. fragment Omega, inside his head."

"Ouch. Poor kid," Flowdie said with a wince. That sounded painful, in so many ways.

"Yeah. But despite that, Caboose is a lovable goof who is far more perceptive and understanding than you'd think. It's his childish nature that makes people write him off as a completely idiot. Don't get me wrong, he's an idiot, but he gets things."

"I really wish my 'death' wasn't an important plot point."

"Your apparent revival was too, but at that point you were possessed by O'Mally."

"Yeah... can we skip that this time?" Flowdie asked with another wince. Maybe Blood Gulch hadn't been the best choice for protecting the Alpha.

"Hum... maybe. We'll see," Marley responded with a shrug.

"Oh thank the UNSC," Flowdie said, slumping forward like a puppet whose strings had been severed.

"Hum... that seems rather unwieldy," Marley remarked thoughtfully.

"Better than cursing, am I right?" her companion challenged. She inclined her head slightly.

"Too right. Carry on!"

"I'm stuck on a space ship with a mad woman. Yay me." Marley grinned at Flowdie's dry remark.

/?/

A/N: and the longest, most true to RvB 'episode' yet. Hope you enjoyed it, because this isn't the end! And yes, I changed Flowers' personality. Just hit the AU button and roll with it would you? Oh, and with Marly around... yeah. Know what? The AU excuse is my best one. Until nest time!

A/N 2: Edited for spelling, word choice, and continuity. 8/15/16


	8. Episode 7

Disclaimer: If you recognize it from outside this fic, it isn't mine.

To Guest: I'm a Christian, don't approve of swearing, and love chocolate. And hate Cornelius Fudge from Harry Potter. Plus, with Grif's relationship with food provides lovely alternatives. Hopefully, the story will be exciting enough for others to over look the edits. I'm glad you've enjoyed it so far!

 **Episode 7:** Oh What Fun is Shooting

While Doughnut was off doing goodness knew what, Grif had snuck off to his hidden gym. Silently, he shucked off his armor and changed into the shorts and t-shirt he had stashed there. Calmly, he began his stretches. As was his custom, he started at the top with his neck, and slowly worked his way down to his ankles and toes, even going so far as to stretch his wrists and fingers. When one's life depended on one's ability to pull a trigger or land a solid hit, one tended to want one's fingers and wrists flexible. After his thirty minute stretch routine, Grif went through his weight workout. He knew he didn't have the time for the full five hour deal, so he'd stick to the resistance and leg training. Still, it took him about two and a half hours to get back to base. Some of that was taken up by his rinse off and re-armoring. When he got back, Simmons was fiddling with a computer and muttering about some guy called Flowdie and bullets in... uncomfortable places. Grif decided to skirt around that mess and stare out in the general direction of Blue Base. "Newbie hasn't come back?" he asked his muttering comrade.

"If he had, I'd have locked him in the freezer. Why don't you go make sure your frozen burritos are still there?" Simmons bit back. Grif winced. Okay. Note to self, don't try to make small talk with McGeek when he's...

"What are you doing?" Dagnabit! And right after he'd made a mental note to leave the obviously irritated geek alone! He must have a death wish. Simmons was decent with a gun, but at this close a range... yeah. Grif didn't want to think about how many bullets the geek could pop in him before he died.

"Trying to fix an absolutely ancient radio, now buzz off!" Simmons bite out.

"Where did... ?" Grif asked, despite that little voice in his head telling him it was a bad idea.

"Sarge." Grif blinked.

"Sarge is back? But I don't hear him bellowing my name in absolute rage and disgust," he said, truly curious. Simmons chuckled.

"Yeah, that's likely what he'd do the moment I told him you vanished. Again. No, I found it in Sarge's room. Turned it on, it worked for a moment, then made a truly awful grindy noise, and stopped. Figured I should fix it before Sarge got back," he explained. Grif 'ah'ed and nodded. That made a lot more sense then Sarge handing Simmons a radio and asking him to fix it. And then not bellowing for Grif in absolute rage and disgust. It sad, but it was a fact of life. Sarge really didn't care for Grif. Putting aside the rather skewed team dynamic, Grif settled in to watch Simmons work. After the tenth muttered curse, the Hawaiian sighed and tossed the geek his rifle. "Huh?" said geek questioned when he felt the gun colliding with his armored head.

"Pick up your gun and stand up," Grif ordered, already lining up a shot. Simmons tilted his head slightly, in the way that projected a raised eyebrow, but did as he was told. "See that tree over there? I bet you an hour's work I can hit it," Grif said, gesturing to a tree that was just in range with his rifle. Simmons snorted.

"I'll take that bet," he said. Grif chuckled, put his eye to the sight and...

"I win. That's an extra hour to my break tomorrow," Grif said, clearly proud of his shot. The tree now had a barely visible notch in the bark.

"You clipped it! Clipping and hitting are two different things! I get an extra hour break!" Simmons contested. Grif grinned.

"Oh yeah? Well how bout this. If you can hit the tree, I'll admit defeat and take an hour of your work. You don't even clip the tree, and you take an hour of my work. Deal?" he asked, holding out a hand. Simmons groaned, but smacked his hand in a low five.

"Deal," he moaned, then lined up the shot. It wasn't the trickiest, but for a Blood Gulcher, it was pretty hard. He took a deep breath, steadied his hand and then...

"Aw man! Now I have to do your work!" Grif cried, acting dismayed at Simmons' excellent shot when he saw the tiny hole in the bark, five inches away from his own scoring. Simmons preened slightly while Grif moaned.

"Hey, it was your bet," the science officer reminded smugly.

"I know. I just didn't think you'd be a better shot than me," Grif shrugged. Honestly, he could have hit the tree dead center, and he knew Simmons could hit it solidly enough to count. He was just trying to cheer the guy up and if it meant he had to take some of his work, so be it. At least Simmons wasn't cursing. Or muttering about putting bullets where bullets really shouldn't go. It was a bit scary when he did that.

"Yeah? Well, I actually do this thing called practice. You should try it sometime," Simmons teased.

"Uh... I thought that's what we were doing?" Grif shot back. Simmons jerked slightly, their version of a violent blink.

"What?"

"I thought I was getting you to do some target practice with me," Grif easily replied, bringing his gun back up and hitting a, slightly closer, boulder and chipping some of the top off it.

"Why?" Grif shrugged.

"Figured you were getting too into that radio and needed to clear your head. Believe it or not, this is how I clear my head. At least, it is when I'm irritated. When I'm mad, I lay into my punching bag. Other than those two emotions, I either take a walk or a nap." The orange solider shot the boulder again before shouldering his gun and turning to Simmons. "You were clearly irritated, so, target practice it was. Feel better?" Simmons just stood there, speechless. Grif was beginning to wonder if he'd broken the other soldier when Simmons spoke.

"Yeah. Yeah, I feel a bit better. Can I get back to my project now?" Grif chuckled and leaned against one of the not-really-turrets that ringed the top of the base, looking out over the canyon.

"Sure, Simmons. Sure ya can," he said. Simmons muttered a thanks and went back to the radio. Keeping his head pointed out toward the canyon, Grif watched Simmons out of the side of his visor. A slight smile played across his lips as he noticed how much calmer Simmons seemed after their, very short, bout of target practice. If Grif'd had his way, they would have shot the rifle a bit longer, but if the other man was calm enough to work without cursing, it was good enough for him.

/*/

When Grif headed over to the cave, Marley decided to drop down with Flowers and work with Simmons on his girl issues, as well as his mechanical skills. Sure they had Lopez, but what would happen when Lopez wasn't around? The guys would still need a tech, and Simmons was really the best option for that role. He was smart, analytical, methodical, and organized. Honestly, the guy needed something that required him to get dirty. Working on cars seemed like the logical step. But in the absence of a busted car, or ship, a busted up old radio would do just fine. Besides, having a guy around who could fix a radio was always a good thing, especially in this 'army.' "Wait wait wait. Who's this guy?!" Simmons protested, pointing his pistol at Flowers. Who was wearing his new gray armor with cyan accents.

"Agent Hippie. I call 'em Flowdie. Flowdie, say hello to Rick!" Marley said. The gray helmet, with a cyan stripe down the middle, nodded to Simmons.

"Hello Rick," he said in an eerily familiar voice. Simmons narrowed his eyes at the man, finger itching to pull the trigger.

"What's with the cyan... Flowdie," he growled. Marley stepped forward, pushing Simmons' gun down(he made a mental note to work on his upper body strength. She pushed both down with far too little effort).

"Flowdie's been a friend of mine for years, Rick. He just likes the color alright?" she said. Simmons sighed and holstered the weapon. "Thank you. Now, as to why we're here. I couldn't leave Flowdie in the ship because if I did, he'd fly off to help his old team, so that's why he's here. Why I'm here, is to not only work on your girl issues, but also on your repair skills." Simmons groaned.

"You love to torment me, don't you?" he groused. Marley just chuckled while Flowdie clasped his shoulder in the Man Code 'I feel your pain brother, I feel your pain' way. This was going to be a long day, he could just tell. Turned out, it was only two hours, but those two hours were brutal for Simmons. Marley didn't even bother masking her voice. And she flirted. It didn't matter that she was flirting with Flowdie, it made Simmons highly flustered. Flowdie found it highly amusing and was, ultimately, the reason Marley left. Of course, while she took Flowdie with her, she left the museum piece of a radio behind for Simmons to continue working on. Half an hour later and he was not only ready to shoot Marley and her 'friend', but blow the radio to kingdom come. Grif turning back up and asking questions didn't really help him fix the blasted thing either. It was when Grif was just silently watching him that Simmons got unnerved the most. Who knew what was going through that crazy head of his? His musings, and cursing, was cut short when a rifle impacted on his helmet. Now, Simmons wasn't against guns, he just... couldn't understand why Grif would toss one at his head.

"Pick up your gun and stand up," Grif ordered. Now why would Grif be telling him that? Shouldn't it be Sarge telling him to stand guard? All the same, Simmons did as he was asked. "See that tree over there? I bet you an hour's work I can hit it." Simmons snorted. There was no way either of them were hitting that tree, least of all Grif.

"I'll take that bet," he said. He was already thinking of what he'd do with his extra work-free hour when Grif proclaimed himself the winner of the bet, clearly proud of his shot. Simmons couldn't help but gawk at the clear, even from here, line of pale wood scoring the bark of the tree Grif had aimed at. "You clipped it! Clipping and hitting are two different things! I get an extra hour break!" he contested. No way was he giving up his extra hour. Especially if it meant getting Grif to work.

"Oh yeah? Well how bout this. If you can hit the tree, I'll admit defeat and take an hour of your work. You don't even clip the tree, and you take an hour of my work. Deal?" Grif asked, holding out a hand. Simmons groaned, but smacked his hand in a low five.

"Deal," he moaned, then lined up the shot. He took a deep breath, steadied his hand and then... He made the shot. Grif's dismay had him preening slightly while Grif moaned. He pointed out that it was Grif's own fault, then felt a bit irritated when Grif expressed his doubt in Simmons' aiming skills. "Yeah? Well, I actually do this thing called practice. You should try it sometime," he sniped, dropping into a ready stance, rifle pointed near Grif's kneecap. He didn't even notice.

"Uh... I thought that's what we were doing?" Grif said. Simmons could have sworn the other man was smirking.

"What?" he asked, bewildered. That was what Grif called target practice? If so, it was pathetic.

"I thought I was getting you to do some target practice with me."

"Why?" Grif shrugged.

"Figured you were getting too into that radio and needed to clear your head. Believe it or not, this is how I clear my head. At least, it is when I'm irritated. When I'm mad, I lay into my punching bag. Other than those two emotions, I either take a walk or a nap." The orange solider shot the boulder again before shouldering his gun and turning to Simmons. "You were clearly irritated, so, target practice it was. Feel better?" Simmons just stood there, speechless. Grif was... trying to help with his irritation? Yeah, it did seem pretty unbelievable that Grif used target practice as a form of anger management, Simmons had thought even that would be too much work for the man, and the thing about 'his' punching bag was strange too, but Grif helping him? That was even harder to fully wrap his head around. Sure they were sorta friends, but still. Grif. Helping. It was a strange concept. Then again, as Simmons examined his emotions, a lot of the irritation and frustration was gone. He smirked at his comrade. Confusing and lazy and strange as he was, Grif was an okay guy. Once you got past the aforementioned defects.

"Yeah. Yeah, I feel a bit better. Can I get back to my project now?" Simmons said, fingers already twitching to get back to work. Grif chuckled and leaned against one of the not-really-turrets that ringed the top of the base, looking out over the canyon.

"Sure, Simmons. Sure ya can," he said. Simmons muttered a thanks and went back to the radio. He'd never say it, but leaning against the base like that with his rifle held in a confident, easy manner, Grif actually looked pretty cool.

/*/

"I am seriously lost," Doughnut muttered, running in circles not too far from Blue Base, which he still thought was the store. Up in the stratosphere, Flowers was banging his head against a table.

"How dense is this guy?!" he asked. Marley chuckled, enjoying the show. Both of them.

"Pretty dense Flowdie. Pr~et~ty dense," she said. Flowers moaned and dropped to the floor for a moment before peeking at the screens yet again. He didn't really want to miss anything.

/*/

"Oh skits. Hey Tucker. Look at his armor. It's red," Church said. Tucker winced.

"Oh man, that means it's their Sargent," he stated, for the newbie. Who honestly didn't know why giving 'the general' the flag was bad. Okay, so if it _was_ 'the general' and he'd asked for the flag, maybe it would be alright. But it wasn't really 'the general.' It was Red Sargent. That guy... oh, that guy...

"Well, that makes sense. At least now we know how he got past our defenses," Church said. The new guy titled his head like he was confused.

"Uh, ya know, he came in the back door where you guys were standing," he said. Tucker gave a little sigh. Church was just going to ignore that. And the slight it put on him. Come to think of it, Tucker was going to ignore it too.

"Uh yeah, okay. Well lets take him out then," Tucker said. Yea for ignoring!

"Roger that," Church said, dark glee underscoring his words. Hum. Was Church secretly a psycho, like that orange guy on Red Team? "Okay. Say good night, Sarge," Church said before firing four shots, each one missing the crouching Do... I mean, S _arge_ , by a few... feet.

/*/

"Wow. Okay. Alpha sucks at aiming. Good to know," Flowdie remarked, unsure of how exactly he felt about that.

"Maybe all of Church's weapon functions were all shunted over to the fragments," Marley suggested with a shrug.

"... You just love heaping more sins on the Project, don't you?"

"What? No, that wasn't heaping more sins on the Director. That was putting forth a theory! Goodness Flowdie, you've really got issues. Where'd your happy-yet-grounded perky personality go?" Marley asked, looking at her companion in surprise.

"It died. Church killed it. With aspirin," Flowdie drawled. Marley wasn't sure how to decifer the tone he used, but it wasn't complementary, that was for sure.

"... Wow. You sure you didn't really die? Like, for a few minutes? It'd really explain your mood swing," she asked, trying to lighten the mood. It didn't really help much. Man, Freelancer must have messed her up more than she thought. She remembered being a bit better at psychology than this.

"I'm... fairly sure," Flowdie responded.

"Uh huh. Sure," Marley drawled, still eying her friend warily. A beat of silence passed before she asked, "You're not... bi-polar... are you?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Flowdie answered easily. Marley quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Split personality?" she inquired.

"Don't think so," he shot down.

"Duly noted Butch. Duly noted," she acquiesced, writing down a few notes. Flowdie rolled his eyes at the woman, but couldn't help a fond half-smile.

/*/

Doughnut ducked and screamed as sniper rounds impacted the ground around him. What the heck man?! Why was he getting shot at?! "Son of a gun!" he exclaimed, dodging while crouching. Well, at least he had one thing on his side. Whoever was shooting at him was a terrible shot with that sniper rifle.

/*/

Tucker could only stare in shock as Church's shots all missed. "Aw skits," the not-a-sniper muttered, putting away the rifle and pulling out his pistol. Tucker was still staring when Church turned to him. "What?" he asked. Tucker huffed a laugh. What, he asks?

"You're really not very good with that thing... are you?" the cyan /*/ 'Little armor thief.' 'Stuff it Flowdie!' /*/ soldier said.

/*/

Meanwhile, on the valley floor, Doughnut was running back and forth, waving the flag and shouting, "Hey! Don't shoot! I'm the guy who bought the flag remember?!" It didn't occur to him that this... might not be the best idea. In fact, the best idea would have been to leg it as far away from the 'store' where people, who apparently didn't know how to use guns, had sniper rifles and were shooting at him. However, at this point, Doughnut was the dumb comic relief who didn't know a thing. So, he stayed there, running back and forth, screaming. Noob.

/*/

"Hey! Did you hear that?" Grif asked, looking toward the blue base. Simmons jerked out of his geek-trance and looked up from his radio. It wasn't like he was getting much of anywhere with the thing.

"Hear what?" he asked, looking around in confusion. Grif huffed.

"Sounded like a sniper shot. Four of em. Stay here, I'm gonna go get _our_ sniper rifle. See if I can't figure out what's going on over there," he said, rushing inside the base. Simmons blinked, realizing there was something odd. He could have sworn Grif was sitting, cross-legged, resting against the 'turret' part of the base just a moment ago. Perhaps he'd leapt to his feet while Simmons was still wholly focused on his radio? Simmons shook his head. A fully armored Spartan leaping was bound to make some noise. He would have heard it... right? He sighed and stood up, putting the nearly finished, if not fixed, radio aside and squinted toward the Blue Base. What could they be up to? They hardly ever did anything! It was rather boring actually. If Marley didn't come kidnap him for 'field trips' he was fairly sure he'd be a raging sycophant trying to get promoted just so he could _get out!_

/*/

"Oh great," Tucker remarked as he watched the red solider run in circles, "now he's taunting us. That's just embarrassing." Church growled and switched to an assault rifle.

"Alright, that's it. I've had it! Rookie? You stay here, me and Tucker will take the teleporter and cut him off at the pass!" he said. Tucker could do nothing but look at his sort-of friend in shock and horror. Did he really just suggest going through the teleporter?! The same glowy green thing that made the rocks all hot and black?! "Tucker! You ready? Let's go!" Oh Captain Flowers NO! He _was_ suggesting that!

"There is no way I'm going through that thing," Tucker refused. Church sighed.

"Tucker, we don't have time for this. Why would they give us a teleporter if it doesn't work?" he asked. It was a reasonable question... if you were laboring under the idea that 'command' was filled with competent and reasonable folk. Which it wasn't.

"I don't know! Why would they send us a tank that no-one can drive?" Tucker countered. Another reasonable question under the same circumstances. Church, however, was having none of this. He wanted to use the teleporter dagnabit!

"We already tested the teleporter, remember?!" he said.

"We threw rocks through it!" Tucker protested.

"Yeah? And? So what? The rocks came out the other side didn't they?" Church asked, sounding for all the world as though it were an acceptable test with favorable results. Tucker wasn't so convinced.

"Yeah, but they were all hot, and covered with black stuff," he rebutted, thoroughly unimpressed.

"Oh, so I guess that's what this is all about then? You're afraid of a little black stuff?" Church asked, equally unimpressed. Tucker bit back nervous chuckles.

"Yes. I am. I am afraid of black stuff," he said, inwardly chuckling at the irony. He himself was black. Not that Church cared to notice. Jerk.

"Tucker," Church began, bringing his rifle up, "I almost hate to do this ta ya."

"You wouldn't," Tucker said, though he was considering taking a step or too back from his crazy teammate.

"Ya know, I look at it this way: either a) we go through there, and get the flag back, or b) we stay here, and I get to kill you. Either way, I win."

"For the record, I just want to say, rocks aren't people," Tucker said, donating valuable words of wisdom to the world at large. Church, however, didn't seem to care.

"Duly noted. Now get in there!" he said, motioning toward the teleporter with his rifle.

"Carp!" Tucker said, drawing out the word before coming forward to face the teleporter. "Alright. 1... 2..." he said, then ran through the teleporter.

"Um..." Caboose, who had watched the whole thing like an in-ordinarily interesting tennis match, drawled after a moment. "He... didn't come out the other end."

"Yeah," Church drawled, mentally berating himself. Sure he was a jerk, but he didn't want to kill his own team. Inside, he was upset about Tucker getting lost. "I've uh, I've decided I'm not going to use the teleporter," he added, running off the side of the base. "Okay. Rookie! You stay here, I'll be back with the flag!" he called, running off.

/*/

Back at Red Base, Grif had come back with the sniper rifle, and Simmons was still confused. "I _still_ don't know what you're talking about," Simmons told Grif, shaking his head at the other soldier, "I didn't hear any shots."

"I'm telling you! It was four shots, like BAM BAM BAM," Grif replied, still scoping out the area in the direction of Blue Base.

"Wait a second," Simmons said, quirking an eyebrow, "that was only three shots."

"... BAM," Grif said. Simmons chuckled softly. He may act like an annoying suck up, but he still had a sense of humor, and Grif had a way of being funny without trying very hard. "Wait a second. We got a blue guy on the move out there," Grif corrected, surprised that the Blues would actually _do_ something. Hey, he wasn't the only lazy soldier in Blood Gulch. Just the laziest.

"Where's he headed?" Simmons asked seriously, instinctively switching over to Agent Maroon's mindset. Grif hadn't quite switched over yet, the scene he was seeing was just a little too odd as he responded with,

"Toward... Doughnut?" he said, blinking. What was that the newbie was waving? "And he's got something," he added. "Looks like..." he trailed off, shocked. How did the newbie get _that?!_

"Like what Grif?" Simmons asked sharply, still in an Agent mindset.

"Simmons," Grif said slowly and seriously, finally switching over, "get the Warthog." Simmons couldn't help a little jibe, having forgotten how upset Grif had gotten when they teased him after the Warthog first arrived.

"What, you mean the puma?" he asked with a slight chuckle. Grif scoffed.

"Yeah, keep making jokes. That'll win the war," he said, then jumped off the base. Simmons chuckled and followed.

"Couldn't resist," he said, already feeling the adrenalin rush of battle. Rick was often like that, joking in the face of battle, but he didn't have a taste for blood. He preferred to use humor as a means of distancing himself from the horrors of war until a more convenient time. A lot of soldiers used that tactic, and honestly, Rick was of the opinion that if you tell yourself you're happy and that the things people say don't bother you, eventually you'd believe it.

/?/

A/N: And there you have it. Webisode 5 in it's regenengle3'd, edited for language, glory. Hopefully it isn't all that bad and there's enough original content for you. It'll diverge more later on, I promise! I'm still getting the hang of writing these guys. And I can't decide if I want to keep Caboose's almost smart lines from the early webisodes, or edit them to reflect his later self. Hum... decisions decisions.

A/N 2: I decided to stay mostly true to the webisodes. It helps. Anyway, this has been re-visited for various reasons, primary among them being continuity. Plus it's been a while since I've worked on this story and I need a refresher. 8/15/16


	9. Episode 8

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but a laptop and Agent Black.

 **Episode 8:** Noobs, Suckers, and Tanks, Oh My!

Doughnut was freaking out when a soldier in cobalt armor ran up to him. "Freeze!" the blue soldier yelled, aiming, in the loosest possible interpretation of the term, his assault rifle at the red trooper.

"Hey! Why were you shooting at me? You could have hit me, jerk!" Doughnut huffed, feeling rather abused. Seriously, if it wasn't his teammates contradicting him, it was someone else aiming a gun at his head. Was everyone in this canyon rude?

"Can it! Don't try and play stupid with me Sarge! I know who ya are, we've been spying on you for three weeks now," the other man said. This puzzled Doughnut, quite understandably. He wasn't a Sargent, and he most certainly hadn't been spied on for three weeks. He hadn't even been in the canyon for a whole day! So, he told the uppity blue guy just that.

"I'm not the Sargent! I haven't even met the Sargent! My name is..." he said, but got cut off by the other soldier, who didn't seem to appreciate being corrected.

"Wait a minute. You're not the Sargent!" he said. Doughnut blinked. Was this guy slow?

"Yeah, that's what I just said!" he groused. This guy... Doughnut didn't think he liked him very much. He was kind of a jerk. A slow jerk. Ugh. What could be worse... scratch that. He could think of a lot of things that were worse. Ugh, the things the human mind cooked up. Somethings were better left unimagined.

"Well, how the heck did you manage to steal our flag?" the blue guy asked. Doughnut glanced at the flag without moving his head. That was what this was all about? Oh come on, give him a break! The _flag!?_ That dirty, ratty, old scrap of cloth was important enough for these guys to try to _shoot him?!_ True it was a poor attempt but still. Shots were fired, he was the target, and that wasn't cool. Ugh. He was really going to hate it here, wasn't he?

"Steal? I have no idea what you're talking about," he said. Seriously, the other blue guy was much nicer. He gave him the flag. Even though he didn't know why he'd want it. It was blue. And old. And were those bullet holes? Wait... oh fudge, he'd gotten himself into it now, hadn't he?

"Three!" a guy dressed in black armor shouted, appearing out of nowhere. Doughnut jerked back in surprise. The heck?!

"Jesus!" the blue guy exclaimed, Doughnut following a moment later with,

"Cheese straws! Who is this guy?" Seriously, they should have name tags. It was hard keeping all these Spartans straight! And where the fudge had this guy come from?! Wait... was that a teleporter pad by his feet? Oh, but _of course_ the blues had a teleporter to the center of the canyon! Note, sarcasm. He had a feeling he'd be using sarcasm a lot more than usual here. Wonderful. Oh look. More sarcasm.

"What in the heck?! Tucker?! Is that you?!" the blue guy, Doughnut was really going to have to learn his name, this was irritating. Anyway, the blue guy who had been yelling asked the randomly-appearing-while-screaming-numbers dude if he was Tucker. Now, who was Tucker?

"H-how did you get up here ahead of me?" the guy in black asked. Apparently, _he_ was Tucker. Mystery solved. Now, who was the other guy!

"And what's with that black stuff on your armor?" Doughnut had to ask, deciding against asking for a round of introductions at the moment. Seriously, this canyon had gone from weird to down right freaky, and he'd only been here for two hours!

"Hey!" Tucker barked, apparently just noticing him, "freeze Sarge!" he finished, bringing his rilfe up to aim at the bewildered Doughnut. Oh man, this guy was behind the times! He wasn't a Sargent! How hard was that to understand?! Oh, he really hoped command would send him his own color armor soon. This was getting ridiculous. Fast.

"Will you stop calling me a Sargent?! I'm still just a private!" he said, getting rather fed up with these blue fellows and ' _Oh. My. Word... I'm turning into my grandfather!_ ' he thought in despair. He didn't want to sound like his grandfather! That was just... ugh. There was a _reason_ he left the family farm!

"The Sarge is still a private? Oh. My. Word... the teleporter sent me back in time!" Tucker exclaimed. Doughnut sighed. Great. Another 'special' one. Just his luck. ' _Why didn't I listen to my mother and become a banker?_ ' Doughnut thought wistfully.

/*/

Back over at Red Base, Grif climbed in the Warthog, Simmons not far behind. "Sorry Lopez, but we need the jeep. The new guy's in over his head," he said to their robotic mechanic. The brown armored android stared at the two soldiers, unable to say a word.

"I'll take gunner, now let's roll," Simmons said, hopping up into the back. Grif looked around at the controls. They weren't too hard, he already had experience with similar vehicles, but the radio... he couldn't find where that incessant Mexican music was coming from!

"How do you turn the radio off in this thing?!" he asked, frustrated, even as he began to drive away.

"Don't worry Lopez! I'll bring her back to you in one piece!" Simmons called back, hoping he could keep Grif from blowing the thing up. Or driving it into a rock wall. Or both. Both would be bad. And likely result in death, one way or another, for the both of them. Yeah... best keep the jeep in one piece. "You do know how to drive this thing... right?" he asked. Grif scoffed, honest to goodness _scoffed,_ as though insulted by the very idea that he couldn't drive a Warthog.

"Of course I can drive this thing! Once you know the trick, it's really not that hard," he said, expertly jumping the gap between two low hills. Simmons decided it would be best for his health if he kept his mouth shut. It wouldn't do for him to bite his tongue after all.

/*/

Meanwhile, Tucker still thought he was in the past. He was explaining things to the other guy, as though _he_ were the slow one. Doughnut found it rather amusing. Especially when the other guy tried to correct Tucker. But, there came a point where he had to speak up. "Is this guy a retard?" he asked the other one. Somehow, he felt the other guy was wondering the same thing. Well you know what they say: great minds think alike. Wait... that would mean that the Blue guy was a 'great mind.' Eck, no thank you!

"Red: shut up. Tucker: listen to me. Ya haven't gone back in time okay? This is the guy who stole the flag, he's just not the Sargent. Turns out, he's just some dumb rookie who just happens to have the same color armor as him. He got in somehow, just... for goodness sake! What is that music?!" the, supposedly more sane, blue guy explained, Mexican music growing louder after his third sentence. They turned to look at the hill behind them and then, lo and behold, the Red Team's Warthog flew over the lip, music blaring and Simmons yelling 'woo-hoo!' "Son of a mutt!" the blue guy exclaimed, moving out of the way. Doughnut watched as the other two dissolved into screaming, running, panicked teenagers and couldn't help chuckling a little as he watched them run for it. The Warthog came to a stop and Grif hopped out.

"What the heck is going on here?" the orange soldier asked Doughnut while Simmons shot round after round from the mini-gun at the cowering blues, shouting abuse.

"You know what?! I honestly have no idea what's going on! I think everyone in this canyon is absolutely insane!" Doughnut replied, on the edge of hysteria. What was wrong with this canyon?! First he was told there were no aliens, then he was sent to the store, he got a flag and got shot at for it, and now there's a small scale _war_ going on? Between humans? Something wasn't right here, no sir!

"Heh. That was quicker than I expected," Simmons muttered before going back to blasting the Blues and screaming random insults at them. Grif chuckled. What was wrong with these guys?! Oh yeah. They were as totally insane as the Blues. ' _I hate my life_ ,' he thought, morose.

"Welcome to Wonderland, Alice! Anyway, how'd you get the flag? None of us have ever managed that," Grif said jovially, gesturing to the fairly innocent looking scrap of cloth. Doughnut shrugged.

"I don't know. I just asked for it."

/*/

The shock was so great, Simmons nearly stopped firing for a moment while Grif gaped at the rookie. No way it was that easy!

"Wait. That worked?!" the orange soldier asked, incredulous.

"I guess. Is it not supposed to?" Doughnut asked, guileless. Grif had to fight not to stammer as he responded. Either this kid was a genius... or the Blues were brainless. He was hoping the kid was just a genius, but the second option was the more likely. ' _Sometimes, I really hate my life,_ ' the weapons expert mentally grumbled.

"I don't know. We never thought to try that. Just take the flag to the base, I'll explain there," he said, hoping to get the newbie out of the battle zone. From the sound of Simmons' taunts, things were getting rather heated.

"Not until someone tells me what the fudge is..." Doughnut began hotly, only to be cut off by a frustrated Grif in full Agent mode.

"There's no time! You get this flag to the base ASAP! Me and Simmons will follow shortly in the Warthog. Now MOVE!" he barked, shoving the other young man toward the flag and jogging back to the Warthog. Out of the corner of his eye, Dex saw Doughnut headed to Blue Base. "Back to our base idiot!" he barked, jerking a finger back the way he'd come.

"Ug- I know. Just got turned around, that's all," the rather pouty sounding private said. Dex groaned and climbed in the Warthog.

"Good job, Simmons. Um... so. How long do you want to hold these two down?"

"Until Doughnut get's back to base. We don't want them following too soon," Simmons replied before returning to shouting abuse at the cowering Blues. Dex looked at the gunner, then the pinned Blues, and back to the gunner.

"You uh... you having fun there?" he asked cordially.

"You could say that. Hey! No moving you dirty Blues!" Simmons bellowed. Dex hummed.

"That was actually a lot like Sarge," he commented. Simmons let out a wild laugh.

"Well, ya spend that much time around someone, you tend to pick up a few habits," he said. Dex chuckled, sitting back in the driver's seat, battle mode subsiding, though he remained mostly Dex. Never know when a situation will heat back up after all. Constant Vigilance!

"Ever thought of being a sniper Simmons?" Dex asked, trying to distance himself from the cackling echo of Marley in his head. Or was it in his head? She had said that his armor had a direct link to The Ghost, perhaps she had activated it. He tried not to think about that. He really didn't want to believe she was some crazy stalker chick. That... would be just a little too much.

"Nope. Always been more of an IT person myself. Hand to hand, maybe a knife. A pistol definitely. Why do you ask?" Simmons replied. Dex shrugged.

"Never hurts to have a sniper who knows what he's doing," he said. Simmons chuckled.

"I would have pegged you as a sniper Grif. Find a nice secluded spot, pick a target, and then... BAM! Headshot from fifty yards, gone before they spot you," he said. Dex shook his head, making a disagreeing noise.

"Nah. I prefer my assault rifle. Faster pace, more action. Makes for a better story, don't you think?" he said, contemplating pulling out a cig and having a smoke.

"Eh, snipers get cool stories too. Mysterious, faceless, nameless, and always deadly," Simmons argued.

"Nope. The blue guy who was with the now-black guy has a sniper rifle and he couldn't hit the broad side of a barn," Dex countered, firmly ignoring that little voice that was whispering ' _It's Rick!'_ in the back of his mind. Simmons couldn't be Rick. He was too much of a suck up.

"Yeah. Hey, if this thing is so loud, how can I hear you perfectly?" said suck up asked.

"Uh, helmet to helmet radio and noise canceling technology?" Dex suggested. Simmons shrugged.

"Works for me. So, think we've pinned them down long enough?"

"Yeah. Let's sneak around the back of the rock and shoot 'em out," Dex suggested, hopping out of the Warthog.

"Eh, beats blowing out my ear drums," Simmons said, hopping down and pulling out his pistol. On reflex, he popped the clip out, checked that it was full, slammed it back in, and checked that the safety was off. Dex quirked an eyebrow behind his visor, but didn't comment. It could just be from all Simmons' time as an overachieving suck-up.

"Alright, same side, or pincher movement?"

"Same side. No need to get teamed up on if we can help it, right?"

"Good point. Let's go," Dex said, heading over to the rock.

/*/

As Grif moved forward, Rick was only a step behind... and wondering to himself what had happened to Grif. He was usually so lazy, even though his _essential_ work always ended up being done, and he wasn't the kind to give orders with any kind of certainty or authority. Shaking his head, Rick followed Grif along the cliff-side path. This was Grif, not Dex he reminded himself... not even if he sometimes seriously reminded Rick of the Senior Agent. Like right now. NO! Dex was Dex and Grif was Grif... right? Gah! Focus! Mission! Blues! But what if... FOCUS! "You alright there Simmons?" Grif asked, concern just barely detectable in his voice. Rick forcefully shoved the comparisons from his mind, and shot the other soldier a smile, even though he couldn't see it.

"Yeah. Just... remembering a friend of mine. Sometimes, I could swear you were his twin," he replied. Grif chuckled.

"Yeah, I get that sometimes. Don't worry about it too much. Alright, we're getting close. Maintain radio silence," he said. Rick nodded, though he couldn't stop thinking, ' _So much like Dex_.'

/*/

Doughnut paced back and forth in front of the two flags back at Red Base, muttering angrily about idiot COs. Just as he was working himself up to a fervor, a Spartan in black armor dropped from the sky. "Hello, Private Doughnut. May I call you Frank?" she asked, tilting her head sweetly. How that is managed in full armor with weapons pointing out of pretty much everywhere is a mystery, but she managed to pull it off.

"Uh... sure?" ' _How does she know my name?_ '

"Wonderful! Welcome to your first critical thinking class Frank!" she said. He blinked.

"... What?"

"Let's get started!" she said.

"Hold up! Couple of things here. One, how do you know my name? Two, who the heck are you? Three, where the fudge did you come from? And four, they have classes for that?" Doughnut asked, skeptical. The woman clapped her hands and squealed. _Squealed!_

"Oh goody! I don't have as much work cut out for me as I thought!" she said. "I know your name because I looked up your file when you were assigned here, I am Agent Black, my ship is about six feet straight up, and yes, there are classes for that." Doughnut blinked, then screamed and shuffled back in shock.

"Agent Black?! _The_ Agent Black?! The Agent Black that leaves broken and burned bodies in her wake and who has only recently shown her helmet?!" he asked. She chuckled.

"Yes. That Agent Black. But you may call me Marley. All of my Agents do."

"I'm not your Agent!" Doughnut furiously rebutted. Marley chuckled.

"Fine. All my students call me Marley. I'd be grateful if you did as well, Private Franklin Delano Doughnut," she said. Seeing no way out, Doughnut conceded and the 'lesson' proceeded. By the time Marley left, Doughnut had one major headache.

/*/

Dex growled at himself. "Drat. I thought we could get around this way, but it looks like we can't," he said, glaring futilely at the rock barring his path. Simmons shook his head.

"Why did we get out of the jeep again? I forget," the maroon soldier remarked glibly. Dex could feel a twitch developing in his eyebrow.

"I didn't want to sit there watching you shoot rocks all day, regardless of how fun you seem to have found it," he sniped. This wasn't going according to plan. At all. Oh he knew that few things ever _did_ go according to plan, but it still irked him when it happened. Granted, this had been one of his weaker plans, but he didn't particularly care. He was actually kinda bored to be honest.

"Oh yes. That was fun. Can't I go back to doing that?" Simmons asked, sarcasm lacing his words. Dex scoffed. That was when they heard an engine idling behind them. Together, they turned to see a Scorpion class battle tank.

"Holy carp," Grif moaned, sounding like he'd much rather have cursed, "what is that thing?"

"A tank?" Simmons supplied unhelpfully. Dex growled.

"Smart alack."

/*/

Church and Tucker were looking at the empty jeep. "Don't be stupid Tucker," Church said, "they're just trying to draw us out."

"No they're not. Look, they left the jeep. They're gone." Church couldn't believe the stupidity of that remark. If they left the jeep, they were going to come back for it. You don't just leave a jeep with a fully functional mini gun on it in the middle of enemy territory!

"Well, I don't know about this. Seems pretty fishy but... aw screw it, lets go get it."

/*/

"Dude, don't move. The operator might not have seen us," Dex said. Simmons scoffed.

"Yeah right, he's probably lining up his shot right now," he said, mind furiously working to find a way out of this admittedly deadly situation. Since when did things like this happen in Blood Gulch?

"But why is it just sitting there?" Dex countered, also thinking of and discarding plan after plan and wondering when Blood Gulch turned deadly.

"He's just trying to mess with our heads. Let's get back to the Warthog," Simmons said. A little while later he said, "Okay, ready? Lets do this on three. One."

"Wait?!" Dex whispered hoarsely, "on three or three and then go?"

"On three. Always faster to go on three," Simmons clarified.

"Okay, okay, on three," Dex said, nodding. Both of them didn't move.

"Ready?" Dex didn't answer, already ready to run. "One. Two. Three." He took off like the bats of hell were on his heel. "Oh that dirty mutt," he heard Simmons mutter. He smirked, preparing to let loose the time honored jab of 'you snooze you loose,' when the tank fired the main canon and blew up the jeep. Almost at the exact same moment, Church, Dex, and Simmons let loose with a rather well deserved, "Son of a bitch!"

"Home base!" Dex yelled, already headed back toward the Red Base. Simmons soon joined his teammate in running away from the tank, swerving slightly as they ran. The tank trundled after them, firing semi-randomly as it did so. Eventually, Dex and Simmons ended up crouching behind a large rock.

"Hey, I have a great idea," Simmons said mockingly, "Lets get out of the jeep, and go around the rock!" Dex growled at the other soldier, fed up with the events of the day.

"Don't. Mock me," he said.

"Oh, I'll mock you. I'll mock you until I'm blue in the face!" Simmons responded with mildly out of character heat. Dex shrugged it off. When getting shot at by a huge tank, people were bound to do and say things they might otherwise not. Simmons just happened to act like Rick under the stress. That was all.

/*/

Church was a bit shocked. "Hey look Tucker, it's the rookie! And he brought out the tank to scare off the Reds!" he said.

"What? No way!" Tucker exclaimed, but he refused to come forward. A few moments later, the tank blew Church up.

/*/

"Alpha," Flowers whimpered.

"I told you~!" Marley sang, completely unsympathetic.

"You... you really had to let that happen, Marley?" Flowdie asked, turning shining eyes on the unrepentant surgeon.

"Yes. Yes I did. Now, Tex is going to come and this show is going to get on the road!" Marley said, far too cheerily.

"I... you were right. You were about everything. Sorry," her companion muttered, looking down at his hands, dejected.

"Oh, so you're apologizing now?" Marley asked, a twinge of sadness in her heart. She didn't want to have to do this to Flowdie, but there was no way she could stop his primary mission from failing. It had to happen.

"Yes. Yes I am," the man said with a tired sigh.

"Interesting," Marley purred, stroking her exposed chin, her helmet resting on the counter a few feet away. Flowers glared at her with little heat. She may be a manipulative, speculative, mildly arrogant, needle happy, all-too-smug little vixen... but he loved her all the same. He might say he hated her from time to time, but he couldn't deny the love he felt toward her. "Stop staring at me," she snapped. He smirked.

"Still got it."

/?/

A/N: And there goes Church! So, already its starting to change, at least in dialog. Oh, what changes shall come?

A/N 2: Edited for coherence, continuity, and spelling. 8/15/16


	10. Episode 9

Disclaimer: I don't own Red Vs Blue or any other references or characters mentioned, used, excreta, excreta, excreta, blah, blah, blah.

 **Episode 9:** The Ghost and The Freelancer

Doughnut was starting to get a little worried. Marley had left almost ten minutes ago and shortly after, explosions had started up in the canyon. Grif and Simmons were still out there! So, once the two came running up the ramp, breathing hard, and Grif looking a little sooty, he just had to ask, "What happened?"

"Big. Tank. Shooting. Whoo!" Grif huffed. He was overplaying it a little, but that tank had really scared him and trying to make sure you're a tough target while running pellmell toward your base, screaming intermittently, took it out of a guy.

"Dang man. We only ran, like, 300 feet," Simmons remarked. Grif stopped panting, stood back up, and glared at the other soldier, though it wasn't as effective with the full face helmet hiding his expression.

"Yeah, well, it was scary. And I was trying to convey how terrifying getting shot at by a huge, missile spitting, A.I. Voiced, fudging _tank_ was!" he said defensively. Simmons shrugged.

"Whatever man," he said dispassionately. Looking around the yard outside their base, another question came to Doughnut's mind.

"Where's the jeep?" he asked.

"Well, General Patton over here had the bright idea of leaving it behind," Simmons drawled mockingly, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at Grif. Doughnut chuckled quietly, leaning back against the base. These guys might be completely insane, and quite likely incompetent, but man were their arguments turning out to be hilarious!

"Hey! It would have worked if that tank hadn't shown up," Grif defended, crossing his arms and inclining his helmet toward Simmons. Again. And, to be honest, a randomly appearing tank would cause complications during any Op. Not that Doughnut knew much about Ops. Then Simmons' words registered and the rookie jolted upright, fear and distress coursing through him.

"You lost the jeep?" Doughnut asked, incredulous. "Oh man, Lopez is gonna be ticked! Where is it?" BLAM! A missile blew up and the jeep landed on top of the base where the soldiers were arguing.

"What the heck?" Simmons asked, before another missile was fired at the base and the three Red Soldiers scrambled.

"Son of a gun!" Grif yelled, snatching his assault rifle off his back, for all the good it would do against a tank.

"Oh carp!" Doughnut yelled, grabbing the Blue flag. "What the heck was that thing?" 'A _nd why did I grab the flag? This thing is useless in actual combat!_ '

"That was the tank!" Grif yelled back, crouching behind the Warthog, rifle in hand. ' _Oh. Right. Like I couldn't figure that out on my own!_ ' Doughnut thought furiously. ' _Seriously, can't a guy ask a rhetorical question around here?_ '

"Hey uh, Grif. You wanna hold the flag for a little bit?" Doughnut asked, pointing it at the crouching soldier.

/*/

' _We don't have time for this!_ ' Rick thought, missiles exploding against the base. "Doughnut! Take it inside!" he yelled, ducking behind one of the raised portions of the base roof. "Why were we even on top of the base when inside is _clearly_ safer?" he muttered darkly to himself. Grif chuckled grimly.

"No clue man, no clue," he replied as Doughnut ran inside.

"Ya know, I hate to point this out, but I think we're screwed," Doughnut said, poking his head back up. Assessing the odds, the relative skill and firepower in-base at the moment, and the armor class of the attacking vehicle, Rick came to a sad realization.

"Hate to say it, but I agree with the rookie on this one," he said. Grif sighed, apparently having come to the same conclusion. ' _Well, I guess I really shouldn't be surprised. Grif isn't one to go up against odds like a tank,_ ' Rick told himself, smirking slightly.

"Yeah. No way we can bust up their tank and get it to stop shooting. And our aim isn't good enough to take out the operator. I suppose we could take out the guy standing to the side of the tank, and then try to take out the gunner, but there's no guarantee that we'll last that long against the tank," Grif said. Just then, the radio came on and Sarge's voice crackled in their helmets.

"Blood Gulch Outpost Number 1. Come in Blood Gulch Outpost Number 1, come in. Do you read me? This is Sargen..."

"Oh my Godiva! Sarge, is that you?" Grif cut in. Simmons bit back a chuckle at how overblown Grif's disbelief was while Rick gave a large sigh of relief. More proof that Dex and Grif couldn't be the same person. Now, if only he could convince himself that the 'not-Dex' evidence overpowered the 'is-Dex' evidence.

"Roger that private. I am currently inbound to your position from command," Sarge replied.

"Sir! This is Simmons."

"Hello Simmons. I hope everything's gone alright while I've been gone," Sarge said.

"Actually Sir, things are kind of hectic right now. The new rookie arrived, and somehow he managed to infiltrate the blue base, and now we have their flag, the Warthog is damaged, one of their guys is dead, and there's a huge tank about to destroy our base," Grif said, summarizing the crazy events, for Blood Gulch, that had taken place. ' _When you say it like that... things have gone a little odd here in Blood Gulch, haven't they?_ ' pondered Rick in the few moments of static as Sarge paused to digest that information, then,

"Am I talking to the right base?"

"Sarge? We. Are. Going. To die here," Grif said slowly, and clearly. Rick flinched as once more he thought of just how Dex-like the statement had been. It was getting a little difficult to keep the two orange armored soldiers in his life separated.

"Well hold tight boys. I think I got a solution to your little tank problem," Sarge said, though he sounded like he didn't really believe there was a tank. A moment later, a large drop ship swooped over head and started firing in a line toward the tank. Soon enough, the tank was blasted, though the Reds could see the Blue who had been driving hopping out and running away.

"Well. That certainly took care of that. Thanks Sarge! And... gunship... person. Thanks a lot," Simmons said.

"You're welcome, Private. Glad to be of assistance," a female voice said. Rick felt his face heating up and berated himself. He had thought he was getting better at talking to girls. ' _Must. Not. Let. Marley. Know!_ ' he thought in fear. If she got wind of how awkward he had been with the pilot... Rick shivered in fear at the very thought.

/*/

Over at blue base, Caboose was finishing cleaning Tucker's armor while the other man called command. "So... what's a freelancer?" Caboose asked, dropping the now black rag into the now gray water with a hidden grimace of disgust. Whatever that gunk was, it was a pain to clean off! Caboose didn't think it was really water soluble. Not that he'd want to use a dry rag on it, but still. It did _not_ want to come off!

"Freelancers are independent. They're not Red or Blue, kinda like guns for hire. They fight for whoever has the most money," Tucker explained.

"Like a mercenary!" Caboose compared.

"Right," Tucker said. "Or like your mom when the rent's due." Caboose winced. Low blow to moms everywhere man. Not cool. ' _Not sure what your mom was like, but mine was pretty awesome,_ ' Caboose thought.

"Oh. That's funny," Caboose muttered, voice heavy with sarcasm.

"Yeah? Ya... you didn't think that was too obvious?" Tucker asked. 'O _h wait... he really meant that as a joke? Man, he needs to work on that._ '

"No no, that was good," Caboose said, again laying the sarcasm on rather heavily. Tucker didn't seem to notice. Dunce. Just then, a ghostly voice began calling for Tucker. Both soldiers turned to look at the base, the direction from which the voice, which sounded oddly like Church, was coming. After the third or fourth repetition, each louder than the last, an insubstantial, white form of a Spartan appeared. Caboose shared a look with Tucker. Well. This was new. Who knew ghosts were real? Oh man. He'd never be able to listen to a campfire story the same way again!

"Who the heck are you?!" Tucker asked, interrupting the apparition, which eerily kept calling his name.

"I am the ghost of Church!" the specter said, voice echoy. Though, oddly enough, it sounded more like he was talking in such a way to make it seem like his voice was echoing. "And I've come back with a warning!"

"You're not Church," Caboose said, clearly holding back some form of amusement. "Church is blue! You're white."

"Rookie! Shut up man! I'm a freaking ghost! Have you ever seen a blue ghost before?" the... ghost Church?... asked in clear irritation.

"Yeah. That's definitely him," Tucker said to Caboose, resigned to having the jerk around. Again. And this time, he didn't even sleep. Ugh. It was gonna be rough. Then again, Church had been a sort-of friend.

"Now I gotta start over again," Church groused.

/*/

"He's not really going to start over, is he?" ex-Captain Flowers asked, looking down at the canyon from The Ghost, Marley chuckled, sipping at her root beer.

"You really think Tucker would let him Flowdie?" she asked with a smirk. Flowdie chuckled as well, inclining his head toward her.

"Good point, m'lady," he said. Marley chuckled again.

"Darn right it's a good point!" she said.

"Just have to have the last word, don't you?" Flowers asked, perfectly deadpan. Marley grinned at him.

"Always."

/*/

"Is it really necessary to do the voice?" Tucker asked, a little irritated with the 'ghost' of his 'acting' team leader.

"Yeah. It's kind of annoying," added Caboose.

"Fine," Church bit, clearly annoyed. "Okay, here's the deal. I've come back from the dead to give you a warning about Tex. Don't let..."

"What's the warning?" Caboose asked. If Tucker didn't know better, he'd say the rookie was being annoying on purpose. He didn't really care if the younger soldier was trying to be annoying or not, seeing as he'd annoyed Church for fun plenty of times before. Still, Tucker would be lying if he said he didn't want to know what Church's warning was.

"Shut up for one second and I'll tell you!" Church shouted, really annoyed now.

"Oh. Sorry," Caboose said. Tucker bit back a snicker. The rookie was a natural at Annoying Church.

"Seriously man, I mean, I'm coming back from the great beyond here, do you think this is easy?" Church asked. "It's not. It's not like I can just pop in and out whenever I feel like it. It takes a lot of concentration."

"Sorry," Caboose muttered.

"I mean, it's bad enough you killed me to begin with, but now I come back and I can't even get a word in edgewise man," Church said, then sighed before continuing. "Okay. Here's the deal."

"Is that the warning?" Caboose asked.

/*/

"I don't think I like him very much," Flowdie said with a frown, glaring at the Regulation Blue trooper.

"It's Caboose Flowdie. He's the lovable idiot with brain damage. Or... he will be. Give him time to fall into the Blood Gulch lifestyle, alright? He'll get funny. No less annoying, but funny," Marley said, now tossing popcorn into her mouth, as though they were at the movies.

"We can't... ?" Flowdie began, wanting to help out the Blues. They _were_ his team after all. Marley sighed a weary sigh, as though she had been expecting something like this for a while.

"No, Flowdie. We can't make him an honorary member of Project Red. He has his own drama to play out," she informed him, though she did sound legitimately sorry.

"Curses, foiled again," Flowdie groused, snapping his fingers.

"Oh oh! I can foil you! Let me get that aluminum. I'll be right back!"

"No! No! Marley! MARLEY! DON'T GET THE ALUMINUM! _DON'T GET THE ALUMINIUM!_ "

"Hee~!"

"... Madwoman."

/*/

Tucker had a feeling that if he had eyes, Church's ghost would be glaring at Caboose. "Alright, that's it. I swear, Caboose, that your hide is haunted. When we're done here, I'm gonna haunt you," the 'ghost' snarled.

"Yeah, you're even starting to bug me," Tucker told the regulation blue soldier. ' _Not that it's all that hard to accomplish these days_ ,' the cyan soldier sighed in his mind.

"Okay. Tucker. You remember that I was stationed on Sidewinder before they transferred me here to Blood Gulch, right?" Church asked, drawing his attention back to the 'ghost' of his 'friend.'

"No," Tucker stated.

"Sidewinder? Isn't that the ice planet?" Caboose asked.

"Yes," Church said irritably. Tucker was actually a little glad Church was just a ghost at this point. That meant he couldn't fire at Caboose and hit him.

"Cool! What was that like?" Caboose asked again.

"Um... it was cold," Church stated.

"That's it? Just cold?"

"What do you want from me? I'm home? It's a planet made entirely of ice. It's really, amazingly, cold," the ghost bit out. Tucker turned to the rookie.

"Can you just let him talk?" he asked, really wanting to get to the point.

/*/

"Thank you, Private Tucker. I shall forgive you for taking my armor," Flowdie declared imperiously, crossing his arms and nodding 'regally' at the screen.

"Very good Flowdie!" Marley cheered with overblown exuberance, clapping her hands childishly.

"But I still don't think you've earned it," Flowdie added, glaring at Tucker once again.

"A~~~nd we're back to this. Joy," Marley remarked as she allowed her head to fall forward and collide with the table their snacks were resting on. Flowdie smirked. Who knew annoying the people closest to you could be so much fun?

/*/

"Alright. Well, one day when I was there, everything was just like normal. I remember, I was out on patrol with my partner, Jimmy. That Jimmy was a real good kid..." Church said, and went on to tell the story of Sidewinder's demise. At the hands of Freelancer Tex.

"Wait a second," Tucker said, interrupting the story, "how do you beat someone to death with their own skull? That doesn't seem physically possible," he finished. Church's story was beginning to feel rather made up. Maybe he ended up killing everyone with his bad aim and is blaming Tex because she was there and managed to survive? But then... how did Church not get killed to save the rest of them? If it had really been Church causing the destruction of Sidewinder, then he should have been locked up.

"That's exactly what Jimmy kept screaming," Church said with the air of someone commenting on the weather. It was a little unnerving to be honest. "Bottom line is, these Freelancers? They're bad news. And Tex... is one of the worst," he finished gravely. Tucker hadn't heard him sound so serious, ever, in all the time he'd known him. Again, it was a little unnerving.

"If he's such a bad-ass," Caboose asked, "why didn't he kill you?" A valid point. How had Church survived if an unstoppable killing machine who was able to do the physically impossible(seriously, how had she managed to beat Jimmy to death with his own skull?) had swept through the base, leaving the snow bathed in blood? It didn't seem possible and yet, he had come to Blood Gulch. Weird.

"I don't know why I'm not dead. Couldn't killed me at any point. But maybe it's because Tex and I have run into each other once before," Church answered, sounding a little awed himself. ' _Huh, was that where his arrogance came from?_ ' Tucker wondered. That theory didn't have much going for it, but that never seemed to stop Tucker.

"Where?" asked Tucker, curious, once Church's last sentence had sunken in. Church had never really talked about his past before. No-one did really. It was like, one of the unwritten rules of the canyon. You didn't say more about your past than absolutely necessary and you never asked for more information.

"You uh, you remember that girl I told you about back home? Well, let's just say Tex is the real reason why we never got married," Church said. From the way he said it, there was a whole lot more to the story. But, nosy as he was, Tucker wasn't going to pry. Wouldn't even have a chance to try, even if it hadn't been one of the aforementioned unwritten rules of the canyon. "Guys, I'm fading fast and I don't know when I'll be back. Just listen to my warning. Don't let Tex get involved here," Church said, and sure enough, his form was already fading out.

"Okay," Tucker said with a nod, even though he knew it was unlikely that he'd be able to keep the Freelancer from doing whatever the heck he wanted.

"I mean it Tucker. No fighting, no scouting, nothing," Church said as he faded, his last few words too faint to make out.

"So," began Tucker, "Tex and Church were after the same girl."

"I told you his girlfriend was a slut," Caboose said simply.

/*/

"Wait... I thought you said... ?" Flowdie began, too confused to finish his thought.

"Oh! I forgot he was like that before. Huh. Weird how that happened. Oh well!" Marley gasped through her near hysterical laughter. Flowdie edged carefully away from her.

"Marley... your years alone have really done a number on you, haven't they?" he asked wearily. Once she got her laughter, and her breath, back under control, she countered with,

"And your years without me made you a hippie. Your point?" Flowdie groaned and lightly smacked his head into the wall.

"Drat you and your logic," he growled. Marley grinned.

"Winning~!" she sang cheekily. Flowdie could only moan in response. And this was the woman he loved above all else? He must be mad.

/*/

Simmons and Grif had, somehow, managed to get the Warthog back to Lopez. "Sorry Lopez. I honestly didn't count on there being a tank," Simmons apologized. Lopez, as always, didn't say a word as he continued to work on the busted vehicle.

"Yeah man. That tank totally took us by surprise. And next time, we're not leaving the jeep," Grif added, nodding along. Simmons sighed and headed back to the base.

"I'd better write up the report," he moaned. Grif whimpered slightly.

"That means I'll have to deal with Sarge," he said. Simmons chuckled darkly.

"Better you than me, General Patton," he said. Grif sighed. Sure it had been his idea but...

"Throwing me to Sarge? Come on man! At least share the blame!" he called after the retreating soldier. But if Simmons heard the doomed man, he didn't show it. He just. Kept. Walking.

/*/

It wasn't long before the jeep, and Grif, was discovered by their CO. "Grif! What happened to the Warthog!" Sarge yelled, stomping his way toward the private. Grif sighed and sank further into his lazy persona before telling his story. Sarge sighed when Grif finished and asked, "Grif. Do you have any earthly idea how much this piece of equipment costs?" ' _Over three thousand dollars would be my guess,_ ' Dex thought, but Grif didn't say that. Grif was the irresponsible idiot.

"I-I don't know, like, ten... ten... twenty... twenty-five bucks, maybe? Duh, um, ya-you're gonna kill me now aren't you?" ' _Shoulda stayed quiet. Or taken my guess,_ ' Dex told himself. Grif told Dex to shut up and focus on the mad, shotgun obsessed, Sargent. Sarge sighed.

"Tell ya what Grif. I'm a fair man. I'll give you a ten second head start here before I let Lopez do anything he wants to ya," he said. Grif could see Lopez cocking his pistol behind Sarge's back. It was not a reassuring sight.

"Guys," he began, "I just want you to know. I'm really, really sorry here," he said, drawing out the 'really.'

"Five Mississippi," Sarge said, and behind him, Lopez switched out his pistol for an assault rifle. "Six Mississippi."

"Okay, guess I better get going then," Grif said, turning tail and running. Sarge, holding a pistol, shared a look with Lopez before they both started shooting after Grif.

"Hey guys, that's not funny! Somebody could get hurt here!" Simmons yelled when a burst from Lopez's gun ripped past his head. Seeing the running Grif, however, he decided it would just be best to get inside and duck for cover. One should never, ever, tick of an android. He had learned that one the hard way on his second mission with Marley, out on Betazoid 771, when one extremely foolish moron decided to mouth off to a serving droid in the bar. Poor idiot was in surgery for three hours trying to get that tray out of his back, not to mention the breaks and internal damage done by the droid's fists. Shivering slightly to himself, Simmons went back to the teleporter unit Marley wanted fixed. He didn't know what happened to it, but the thing was pretty fried. He'd need to make a replacement mother board, along with a few other circuits.

"Stop running! Makes it harder for the bullets to hit ya!" Sarge yelled. Rifle fire blared and Simmons figured that was Lopez's way of saying, 'ruin my stuff, I ruin you. Idiot.' Poor Lopez didn't have a voice chip yet. It was supposed to come in the next shipment.

/*/

Once Sarge and Lopez were done, roughly three hours later, Grif went to the top of the base where he found Simmons. "So... Sarge took that pretty well I thought," Grif said to Simmons, not bothering to deny getting shot at.

"Yeah right! He told me he thought you were a retarded monkey and that he's suspending your weapon privileges!" Simmons retorted. Grif sighed and Doughnut, blue flag in hand, decided to remind them that he was there.

"Hey, since I captured the flag, do you think they'll give me my own colored armor now?" he asked, eager to get out of the regulation armor. Being mistaken for Sarge once was more than enough thank-you-very-much!

"What do you mean captured?" Simmons asked, "you thought you were buying it at the store you idiot."

"Still, think there's a shot?" Doughnut asked, still waving the flag around. He wanted that unique armor dang it!

"Maybe they'll give you Grif's armor since you destroyed the Warthog," Simmons said dryly. Grif huffed out a laugh, then froze before turning to Simmons.

"You don't really think they'd do that... do you?" he asked. Simmons remained silent, though behind his helmet, he was grinning. Sometimes, Grif was just too easy to mess with.

/*/

While the soldiers argued up top, Marley and Flowers were snickering as they watched Sarge try to help Lopez fix the jeep. "Try connecting that hose to that metal thingy there," Sarge said, "I think that's what's making that rattly noise." Lopez stopped and stood, staring silently at the Sargent. "Uh, think I'll let you do it."

"Smart move Sarge," Marley chuckled before popping some popcorn in her mouth. Then the two watching Agents, and Sarge, saw a distortion in the air. "And there's Tex!" Marley chirped while Sarge exclaimed,

"What the... ? What was that?!" Lopez just ignored everything and worked on the jeep.

"Back to the roof! That's where the flag is!" Marley said, switching camera views. Flowers moaned.

"You're really kind of annoying, you know that?" he asked.

"Hey! I showed you the Blues for the plot points and explainationy thingies right? So shut up and lets watch the Reds! Besides, this is Tex we're talking about," Marley retorted, already lining it up so they could watch Grif, Simmons, and Doughnut.

"Fine. But things had better..." Flowers began, only to get cut off by the pilot.

"Oh~ho! It's just getting started Flowdie. Just getting started," Marley smirked before falling silent. It seemed Simmons had noticed Tex's arrival as well, though his armor functions were limited in Standard Mode.

/*/

"Simmons!" Dex barked, noticing the other soldier looking toward the door and knowing few good things came from people seeing things. "You see something?" he asked.

"I thought I did," Simmons answered, though he wasn't too sure. Dex hummed quietly. Simmons had pretty sharp eyes, and he'd been expecting the Blues any minute. He looked over at Doughnut and made a snap decision.

"Hey Rookie! Tuck the flag somewhere safe while we figure out what's happening. Having the objective in plain sight is just asking for it to get grabbed," he said, motioning to the inside of the base as he spoke. Simmons nodded behind him. It was a good enough idea.

"Good idea. I was sick of carrying this thing anyway," Doughnut said, chucking the flag down inside the base. Dex sighed. That hadn't been what he had in mind, not at all. A faint sound, like armored gloves rearranging a gun, pricked at his ears. That couldn't be good.

"Did you hear that?" Simmons asked. Dex nodded.

"Yeah," he said, his whole body tensing. Hearing things was almost as bad as seeing things. Usually... they were worse. Hearing something generally meant they were about to be blown up. Especially if it was a clicking, beeping, or hissing noise. Those were the worst!

"Hey!" Doughnut whispered roughly, "what's going on?" Just then, a sticky grenade got launched over the wall of the base and stuck itself to Doughnut's helmet.

"What the fudge?" Dex asked, backing up. He had been watching the spot it came from, but he hadn't seen the grenade until it flew past him. How the heck did that happen?

"What?" asked Doughnut, apparently not hearing the hissing noise coming from the explosive. Honestly, Dex didn't know how the rookie couldn't hear the ominous hissing coming from the device, it was right over his ear! Not good, not good, _not good!_

"Wha... is that a... ?" Simmons asked, also backing away. Poor Doughnut. He didn't have a clue what was happening.

"What?!" Doughnut asked, getting a little worried now. "Is what a what?!"

"Uh, now may be a bad time, but I think there's a grenade stuck to your helmet," Dex said, honestly sounding a bit apologetic.

"WHAT?! GET IT OFF GET IT OFF!" Doughnut yelled, turning around wildly, as though he could catch sight of it.

"Calm down! It looks like it's on a time release. You should have a few seconds. Now, all you have to do, is take off your helmet. But be careful, we don't know if undue movement will set it off," Simmons said, calmly. Dex was a bit impressed. He would have thought Simmons would freak out in the face of a live bomb. Doughnut moved his head in what might, in micro-expression land, have been a nod like motion and slowly took his helmet off. "Good. Now, throw it as high as you can!" Simmons instructed, bringing his gun up. Dex caught on to what he was doing and unlimbered his rifle as well. So much for the IT geek being boring.

"Here goes," Doughnut said, still rather scared sounding, and chucked the helmet before dropping to the ground. The helmet flew about four feet up before the grenade detonated. Dex blinked.

"Wow. Good arm there Rookie," he said. When he looked back down, he saw a young man grinning back at him, dressed in regulation Red armor. He had short cropped blond hair, cornflower blue eyes, and a puckish grin on a boyish face. He couldn't have been more than twenty. It made Dex feel so... sad. Oh, that bright young men like Doughnut were being sent to dead end, sometimes literally, postings like Blood Gulch when they could be delivering pizza and meeting girls back in the city. It truly was a sad thing, though not as sad as the child soldiers that had been so painfully common in the past.

"Thanks! Comes from playing fetch with the sheep dogs back on the farm," Doughnut said, jerking Dex back to the present. Without his voice being distorted by the helmet, the poor guy sounded even younger. "Um, just out of curiosity, what were you going to do if it started coming back down before it exploded?"

"Shoot it of course. That fixes just about everything," Grif replied with a light shrug. Simmons chuckled.

"Yeah. Especially Grif," he said. Grif turned to his usual partner and growled slightly. "Down boy," Simmons said, firing a round at his feet. Grif yelped and jumped back. Doughnut shook his head, clearly amused.

"You two are insane," he said. They both laughed.

"Welcome to Blood Gulch!" they chorused. Doughnut scoffed, though he was smirking as he said,

"Some welcome."

/?/

A/N: Sorry for the longer than usual wait. I lost track of the days. Anyway, let me know what you thought of the subtle changes I've made to the Reds in the box below!


	11. Episode 10

Disclaimer: I own nothing! Expect Marly and a laptop.

Warning: Violence and mentions of blood. Oh and, Tucker. And Church. And let's not forget Tex.

 **Episode 10:** Don't Mess with The Reds

Once Girf and Simmons were over their amusement, Dex and Rick took back over. "Clearly we have an intruder. Rookie! You're exposed without your helmet. Your shields won't be able to properly engage. Stay here, stay out of sight, and don't get shot. Simmons! Come with me. We're going to secure the flag. _Both_ of them," Dex said. Rick chuckled and gave a jaunty salute as Dex moved in.

"Aye Aye Sir!" he chirped.

"I swear, you get cheekier after every engagement," Dex muttered. Rick shrugged.

"All just part of my charm Grif, all just part of my charm," he chuckled. Doughnut shook his head at them even as he hid.

"Man, is everyone in Blood Gulch this crazy?" he wondered. Though, at the same time, he figured, he didn't really mind. It beat being surrounded by a bunch of serious, stoic, scarred, soldiers who talked about nothing but guns, ammo, explosions, and killing. There was a sound behind him and then pain exploded across the back of his head. It was such a shock, he couldn't even shout. As the world began to go dark, he though he saw cloaked boots walk past him and a mechanized voice say,

"Sorry kid, nothing personal." ' _But..._ _why?_ '

/*/

When they reached the flag room... there was only one. Dex cursed softly, his mics not picking it up. "Drat, whoever's attacking must have gotten here before us," Simmons growled. Dex growled and gripped his gun a little tighter.

"Come on! We're going to find that son of a gun and show him why you don't mess with the Reds!" he said, voice dark and rough. Simmons nodded, taking a pistol in one hand and pulling a knife with the other.

"Let us hunt," the maroon solider said, just as dark as his partner. Swiftly as possible, the two ghosted through the halls, seeking the grenade thrower, unknowing of the unconscious body laying on the roof above.

/*/

"Freeze!" Sarge called when he saw the dark form of an unfamiliar Spartan. Sure it looked a lot like Marley, but Marley didn't just waltz around the base. And she always announced herself before she appeared. This one didn't. The soldier stopped, and Lopez cut off the way he'd come. Then Grif came charging out of another corridor, looking a bit ruffled despite his armor. His gun was aimed unwaveringly at the intruder. Simmons appeared not much later, giving off the same annoyed feeling as Grif and anxiously flipping a knife in his off hand, his pistol aimed at the back of the intruder's head.

"So, you're the one who nearly killed Doughnut huh?" Grif snarled, aiming his rifle at the black Spartan's back.

"We don't like it when people hurt our teammates," Simmons growled, stalking a little closer, his blackened knife gripped firmly in his left hand. Sarge wasn't too sure how, but Simmons was actually managing to be rather intimidating. In fact, Sarge thought, Simmons rather reminded him of Agent Maroon at that moment. Especially the way he was handling that knife. When they had that one mission together, Maroon hadn't said more than three words at a time, unless he was yelling, and that was only as he tore his attackers apart with his knives. It had been a rather frightening sight, and Sarge was glad the man was on his side. Anyway, if it wasn't for the fact Maroon had a slightly raspier voice, Sarge would have thought Simmons had been replaced with the Agent. Shaking those thoughts aside, and deciding it was the CO's duty, Sarge stalked toward the captive.

"Drop yer weapon," he ordered. The intruder did so, then looked straight at Sarge.

"Hey buddy," the man growled, though it almost seemed like he was going for a conversational tone. Sarge paused, mildly curious.

"What?" he asked, covertly checking that he was outside striking distance.

"You'd better hope the first one knocks me out." Sarge smirked behind his helmet, took one swift step forward, and whipped the butt of his shotgun down on the intruder's head, knocking him out.

"Ya see? A good pistol whip to the face, or at least the head, solves so many problems," Grif said cheerily, pistol whipping the prisoner across the face. "That was for throwing a sticky grenade at Doughnut, you son of a gun," he said through gritted teeth. Another shiver went down Sarge's back at the tone. Grif almost sounded like Agent Orange. Man, what was going on here?

"I'll go get him, make sure he's still okay. Who knows what this guy might have done before entering the base. Hey Sarge! Know if we've got any spare reg. helmets? Doughnut's got blown up by this guy's opening shot," Simmons said, kicking the downed man in the ribs, right where the armor was weakest. Sarge winced, but nodded. Maybe Maroon _had_ replaced Simmons. The attitude was about right. And Marley had proven that mimicking someone's voice was possible with the right equipment.

"I'll get it. Grif! Take the prisoner to the brig!" Sarge said, deciding that, even if it _was_ Maroon impersonating his solider, there were far worse things that could be happening.

"With pleasure sir," Grif said darkly, grabbing the Spartan by the ankle and dragging him. Sarge winced slightly yet again, watching them go. Their prisoner was going to be covered in bruises and nursing the mother of all headaches when he woke up. Who knew his men would get so attached to the rookie in such a short time? ' _And why does it seem like my fellow Red Agents are impersonatin' my men?_ ' he pondered as he went off to storage to find that regulation red helmet for Doughnut, at least until his custom armor came in.

/*/

Rick found Doughnut sprawled out on the roof, knocked out and with a bloody lump on the back of his head, staining his fair blond hair a rusty red. Rick growled, shoulders tensing as anger coursed through him. "I really hope Grif is giving this guy hell," he snarled before brushing a few stray strands of hair out of Doughnut's eyes. The rookie's face twitched and Rick felt an odd feeling of exhilaration at the thought that he seemed to be waking up. "Doughnut?" he asked as softly as his helmet mic would let him, reaching out a hand toward the younger man. Doughnut groaned, then opened slightly glassy eyes.

"Simmons?" he asked, looking a little to the left. Rick couldn't help but chuckle. This kid... he was too adorable for his own good. Really. If there was a half sane woman in this canyon, she would be fawning all over this kid. And fussing over his head wound. Which looked to still be bleeding, albeit sluggishly. Right.

"Yeah, it's me. Do you remember what happened?" Rick asked, holding the boy down. He wasn't an expert on head wounds, but he figured it would be better for him to lay still for the time being. Doughnut winced.

"Not much. You two ran off, I hid, then something hard hit me in the back of the head and I passed out. Sorry," he said, looking to the side. Rick was glad to see that the glazed look was leaving his eyes.

"Hey! It's not your fault. Whoever this guy is, he's good. Spec Ops good. And he's got the armor to prove it. How's the head?" he said, motioning with his own, eyes drawn to the fresh red spreading over Doughnut's hair. Yeah, the kid really shouldn't be moving if it was just going to re-open the wound. ' _Where's a medic when you need one?'_

"Fine. A bit tender but, I'll live," the boy said, smiling slightly. Rick, however, didn't miss the slight wince when Doughnut moved his head a little too fast. Pursing his lips, Rick nodded curtly once.

"Right. Well, best get you cleaned up. Sarge is scrounging up a fresh helmet for you," he said. Doughnut smiled weakly and let the older soldier help him up. Once they'd made it inside, Rick took Doughnut to the showers. On the way there, Sarge caught sight of them and stopped them.

"Doughnut?" he asked. Still a little woozy and unfocused, Doughnut brought his head up in a wobbly fashion and once again looked a little to the left, though his eyes weren't so glazed anymore.

"Sir?" the boy asked, sounding rather young and uncertain. Sarge swallowed audibly.

"Grif said there'd been an attempt on your life son. I just didn't think..." he said, having some difficulties with his words.

"It's not as bad as it looks sir," Doughnut said, still not quite focused on Sarge, "and not as bad as it could have been. I'd take an unshielded blow to the head over a grenade to the face any day." Sarge made an odd half-strangled sound and waved them on, though he sent a private message to Rick through the helmet radio.

"Look after the kid, Simmons." Rick smiled gently and replied with the same privacy setting,

"Of course Sir." Sarge nodded stiffly and hurried down the corridor. Rick idly noted that his CO was headed in the general direction of the 'brig.' He smirked and hitched Doughnut a little higher on his shoulder. Grif was about to get a bit of 'help' with the prisioner.

/*/

When they reached the showers, Doughnut tried to tell Simmons he could wash himself, but the older man refused to hear it and instead sat him down and rinsed his wound with a soft cloth and a tub of warm water. Doughnut couldn't help but wince and hiss every now and then as the warm water came in contact with the cut on his head. "You're lucky," Simmons finally said, voice softer than Doughnut had ever heard it. He hummed softly in question. "The blow could have fractured your skull, if not shattered it, instead of just cutting open your scalp. Head wounds bleed a lot, even if they're not that deep, often making them look worse than they are," Simmons explained, rinsing the wound one more time.

"I grew up on a farm, Simmons. I've had my fair share of injuries, though few to the head. It's also been proven I have a rather thick skull," Doughnut replied drolly, a smirk tugging at his lips. Simmons chuckled, readying the antiseptic swab and adhesive bandages.

"Is that so?" he asked, swiping the lacerated area with the antiseptic. Doughnut hissed, but replied evenly,

"Yeah. Three brothers, all older than me. One of them, the second oldest, took a liking to baseball. He's gone pro now, but back when he was starting out, he wasn't always so good with his aim. He hit me a couple of times with a pop fly." He heard Simmons hum, then felt him placing bandages over the cut on his scalp. As his teammate tended to him with tender hands, Doughnut pondered the man's unknown past. So far, it seemed he was the only one who willingly shared his past. He hadn't shared a lot, true, but it was more than Grif, Simmons and Sarge had told him combined. It was then the newest member of Red Team decided he'd find out more about his team and proceeded to asked the man, "What about you? Got family back home?" He saw Simmons wince.

"No," he said, swiftly clearing up the first aid kit. "Listen..." Simmons said, slowing down slightly. Doughnut sat up, the perfect picture of attentiveness, "I don't know how it was back at basic for you but around here, one's past is often a rather touchy subject. Everyone has issues, something they're trying to get away from. So just... watch what you say, alright?" the man explained as he placed his kit back on the shelf. Doughnut frowned, sensing a deeper story, but decided not to pry further. Perhaps asking questions wasn't the best way to find out more about his team.

"Hum. Ya know... my head still kinda hurts. I think I'll go lay down," he said, rubbing his neck, wary of actually touching the aching wound. Simmons nodded.

"Use the couch and keep your head elevated. I want to keep an eye on you. Head injuries like this can be tricky, and I'm no doctor," he said, already relaxing. Doughnut smiled sadly at the man, mind immediately going back to the farm and his family. There was one person that Simmons forcefully reminded Doughnut of.

"You sound like Rick, my closest brother," he heard himself softly say before he turned himself around and walked toward the 'living room.' He didn't see Simmons freeze in shock, he only saw his brother's awkward smile, frozen forever behind cold plate glass and his mother's tears as they rolled down her cheeks. ' _You're not wrong, Simmons. Everyone has something they'd rather not think about, and not everyone has someone waiting back home._ '

/*/

"Hey guys. Doughnut's all cleaned up and resting on the couch. He should be fine, but I want us all to keep an eye on him in case anything pops up," Dex heard Simmons say as he entered what served for a brig.

"Good work Simmons. Still got the Blue's flag?" Sarge asked. Dex huffed, eyes narrowing just a little more at the unrepentant soldier in front of him.

"No. The intruder had already snagged it by the time me and Simmons caught up to 'em. Just another reason not to be too gentle," he groused. That was when the intruder got up. Dex immediately grinned a rather bloodthirsty mockery of a smile, fingers twitching eagerly against the grip and trigger of his pistol.

"Well, look who's up," Sarge said, aiming his gun at the black armored Spartan along with Dex, Simmons, and Lopez. The unfamiliar black armor sparked, causing Dex to chuckle darkly, and a woman's voice came through the speakers.

"Ah great. You broke my voice filter you..." Dex fired a shot over her right shoulder, clipping the metal plating and causing sparks to fly up at the visor. He had to give it to her, the unfamiliar woman didn't even flinch.

"Ah ah! Lady's shouldn't curse," Dex said, taking his left hand off his pistol to wag a mocking finger at her. He could have sworn he heard snickers behind him.

/*/

Meanwhile, the Blues were having a discussion of their own. "Let me get this straight," Tucker began, incredulous, "you're telling me, that the guy who showed up here, scared the living daylights out of us, shot at Caboose, and beat the tar out of the Reds... wasn't a guy at all? That he was a chick? And on top of all that, she was your ex-girlfriend?" he asked, listing out all the ludicrous ideas Church had feed them.

"In a nut shell? Yes. That's an excellent summary," Church's ghost nodded. Tucker shook his head. Unbelievable. No way did Church have _any_ sort of relationship with a woman like that. For one thing, she was insane, capable, and seemed far more interested in shooting people than having a family and for another, Church was far too much of a wuss for her to have put up with long enough to go on a single date, much less call him her boyfriend.

"I should have known," Caboose said, nodding slightly. "She didn't like me. Girls. Never. Like me."

"Caboose, I don't think anybody likes you," Tucker said frankly.

"I like me," Caboose said sadly, looking down and to the left. Honestly, if he hadn't been wearing armor and holding a loaded gun, he probably would have looked a little pathetic. It almost made Tucker feel sorry for the man-child. Almost. He still remembered who it was who blew up the closest thing to a friend he'd had in years. And now _he_ was the pathetic one. Wonderful.

"I don't think I've seen a girl that mean before," Tucker went on, trying to ignoring Caboose. "Are you sure she's a chick and not a guy? Or like, part guy, part shark?"

/*/

Flowdie couldn't help but laugh at that. "Yeah Marley, how do you know Tex isn't a part shark guy?" he asked. Marley groaned, though Flowdie could see a smirk tugging at her lips.

"Men! Anyway, weren't you still on board the MoI when Tex showed up? Didn't you hear her talking at some point?" she asked pointedly, quirking an eyebrow at him.

"Voice filters," Flowdie countered with a shrug.

"Look, Agent Texas is a woman. Sort of. It's complicated but trust me when I say that she's is a she and definitely not part shark," Marley declared.

"Eh, ya never know with all these weirdo scientists running a-muck in the galaxy," Flowdie said with a shrug.

"Wait... were there geneticists working on super soldiers to fight against the Covenant along with the engineers?" Marley asked, blinking curiously at her companion. Flowdie shrugged again.

"How would I know? I was a Freelancer, not an investigative journalist!" he retorted. Marley chuckled, smiling softly at the man.

"Nice come back," she remarked. He gave her a cheeky grin and turned back to his former team, feeling rather cheerful.

/*/

"I'm pretty sure I'd know if Tex was a guy, and I'd definitely know if she was part shark," Church said with confidence, seemingly not noticing how odd his comment actually sounded. Caboose was confused.

"Wait wait wait. If she's a girl, why is she named Tex?" he asked. ' _Honestly, who would name their baby girl Tex?_ ' he wondered.

"Uh... because she's from Texas," Church answered matter-of-factually. Caboose and Tucker shared looks, even with helmets in the way. "Trust me, it makes sense!" Church defended. "And you can't blame her for being so aggressive, it's not entirely her fault to begin with."

"Right. You should blame..."

/*/

"Blasphemy!" Marley shouted, blocking out the rest of Tucker's comment. Flowers quirked an eyebrow, but said nothing. He knew she was a Christian and slights against the Almighty were taken very seriously.

"Sure, but you must admit, these guys are rather amusing. I'm glad you snapped me out of my hip..."

"You're still a hippie Flowdie. I doubt that will ever completely go away. Sorry, you're stuck with that one."

"Drat."

/*/

"Will you shut up with that?" Church asked, unknowingly getting Marley to cheer for him. "She got recruited into this weird, experimental program back in basic where they infused her armor with this really aggressive A.I. I'm not really sure how it works, but all I know is that it made her meaner and tougher than ever."

"A.I." Caboose said slowly. "What's the A stand for?"

"Artificial," Church answered.

"... What's the I...?"

"Intelligence."

"Oh~! What was the A again?" Caboose said. If Tucker didn't know better, he'd say the other soldier was doing this on purpose. Again.

"Let's move on," Church decided.

"So," Tucker said, liking Church's idea quite a bit at this point. "The military put this program in her head, and this program made her a killer, but underneath it all she's really just a sweet, down home girl?" he asked, still rather puzzled.

"Oh heck no! She's always been a mean piece of work. It's just that now she's a mean piece of work with cybernetic enhancements," Church retorted.

"Wow, sounds like you really won the lottery with that one. Good catch there buddy. She's a keeper," Tucker said, heavy on the sarcasm.

"So how you doing Caboose? You following any of this whatsoever?" Church asked the last member of Blue Team.

"I think so," the man said slowly. "That guy Tex is really a robot. And you're his boyfriend. So that makes you... A gay robot." Church sighed.

"Yeah. That's right. I'm a gay robot," he said.

/*/

"I think I see what you mean by 'he get's funny,'" Flowdie gasped out between guffaws.

"Took long enough," Marley said with a smirk. Honestly, these early days had been her favorite part of the visions. Less pain and suffering, more jokes.

"That bit, that whole bit there... really funny. Really, really, funny," Flowdie went on. Marley couldn't stop grinning as she watched Flowdie lose it laughing.

"Heh. Alpha's a gay robot," she said, fighting back hysterical laughter herself.

"It's funnier that he accepts it, and even repeats it."

"Stick with me, Flowdie. You ain't seen nothing yet."

"Oh goodie. I can hardly wait," Flowdie remarked dryly, having gotten himself back under control, though his lips were still twitching and his eyes were dancing with amusement. ' _I used to wonder how that worked, but now that I see it... I never want him to lose this again. Wait what? Since when did I...? Oh no! He's getting to me!_ ' Marley thought, panic slowly setting in. Flowdie, however, was oblivious. Mostly because while her thoughts were screaming, Marley's lips had said,

"Oh good. You've learned sarcasm. The Blood Gulch Madness has begun to take firm hold. How delightful."

"Said it once, I'll say it again. Madwoman," Flowdie remarked, though he sounded more fond than exasperated or dismayed. Marley decided to ignore the emotions behind his remark and simply take it at face value.

"We're all a little mad here," she said in her best Cheshire Cat voice and giving her best Cheshire Grin. She was rewarded with a blank look and a sigh. Eh, she'd take what she could get.

/*/

Sarge, in his great wisdom, had left Simmons and Grif to guard the intruder while he went to check on Doughnut and inform command of the happenings in Blood Gulch. "So..." Dex began, circling the perimeter of the room. The intruder didn't seem to be tracking his movement, or making much of a move at all really. It was starting to bug him. "Why start off with a bomb?" he asked, conversationally.

"Answer the question lady," Simmons growled when she stayed silent. Dex couldn't really fault him his anger. It hadn't even been more than a day or so, but already he was developing a bit of a soft spot for Doughnut. Having him be confirmed the youngest of the lot might have had something to do with that. Eh, whatever. Still, the woman stayed quiet, and it was obvious Simmons rather wanted that answer. Dex, however, tried a different tactic to get the woman to talk. He taunted her.

"Not so tough now that we're watching and have taken your weapon, are ya?" Dex tried. This time, he got a response.

"Look punk, I don't need a weapon to kill you." Dex smirked privately. Bingo. Insult her abilities and she'll talk. Sure it could backfire spectacularly, but hey. What was life without a few risks huh?

"I'm sure. What, gonna beat me to death with your handcuffs?" he taunted. She lurched toward him and he reflexively leaned back, dramatically yelling, "Not the face!" He heard Simmons chuckle from the door and his smirk grew. "What? Not gonna follow through?" he taunted, circling back around, though at a slightly larger distance. He really didn't want to get hit in the face, even if he had a helmet on. Some things just translated well from armor to body. "Pity. I would have welcomed the chance to beat you back unconscious," Dex sighed.

"I as well," Simmons rumbled, voice deep with vexation and other, darker, emotions. Dex fought down a shiver. Well well, looks like that intimidating moment when they caught this femme fetal hadn't been a fluke after all. Little Simmons the Geek had a scary side. "The soldier your grenade struck, the one you knocked out and left in a puddle of his own blood..." Simmons began, voice growing louder and more angry as he spoke.

"We've grown rather fond of him you see," Dex picked back up, once again circling his captive. As fascinating as Simmons' anger was, and how strange he found it, Dex would rather they kept a cool head in this 'interrogation.' "Kind of like a little brother or annoying cousin that you love to be annoyed with."

/*/

"And you hurt him," Rick grit out. He knew what Grif was doing. Marley'd done it to him as well, several times. Of course, those times he was fairly sure she told Flowdie to annoy him. "I can't speak for Mr. Pistol-Whip-to-the-Face here, but I really don't like it when someone hurts my family," Rick said, lowering his voice and pulling out one of the knives Marley had been teaching him to use. He hadn't been bad when she started, but now he was pretty good. Even Marley said so, and she was fairly hard to impress. For some reason, the captive still hadn't taken her eyes off Rick, or at least, she hadn't moved her head. He tilted his. "Any reason you haven't moved your head?"

"You're the bigger threat," she said. Rick quirked an eyebrow.

"Oh? And how do you figure that?" Grif asked, stopping behind her.

"He's never once moved his pistol," she replied, "and he seems rather competent with that knife." Grif chuckled. It wasn't exactly a pleasant sound, though it did put Rick in mind, once more, of Dex. However, at the moment, he didn't really care. If it had a chance of unnerving the captive, he'd ignore just about anything.

"Oh, Simmons is dangerous, no doubt about that," Grif said, sliding back around into her view, "a decent enough marksman and a trick knife champion this one." He clapped Simmons on the shoulder and dodged a reflexive slash. "However, he's also text book." Grif returned to his prowl, checking his ammo and clicking the safety off as he moved. "Me, on the other hand... well. I don't like showing off. Uncertainty is such an effective armor, wouldn't you say? Make your opponent unsure of you, make them underestimate you, and then, when the moment is right..." Grif said. It was the last thing Tex heard before her world went black once again, a sharp pain flaring in her neck. He had hit her with a ridge hand to the back of the neck, his favorite knock-out blow, right after the pistol whip.

"Did you have to make a show of it?" Rick asked, feeling a few shivers go down his back at Grif's little show. The orange soldier chuckled darkly, rubbing his hand.

"Yes. And it was so worth it," Grif answered. Agent Orange had enjoyed his brief tenure of freedom, as had Maroon, but they recognized the warning signs. The other was about to find out about their double lives. Revenge had been had, but Doughnut's pain had been repaid three fold. It was time to stop and let it go. Grif sighed and leaned back against the wall and Simmons followed suit soon after.

/*/

"Well don't worry, because I have a great plan for how we're gonna rescue Tex," Church was telling Tucker as Dex was attempting to intimidate Tex.

"A plan? Aw man, I hate plans! That means we're gonna have to do stuff. Can't we just have a strategy? Or a mission statement?" Tucker whined. Church, as always, paid him no mind.

"I just need you guys to run a distraction while I spring Tex."

"Distraction?" Caboose laughed. "That sounds a lot like decoy!" Tucker noted that Caboose didn't seem to see that as a bad thing. He wondered if the madness of Blood Gulch was getting to the guy. He seemed to be loosing brain cells the longer he was around.

"The way I see it, the reds have absolutely no idea how many Freelancers we have out here. So, all I need from you two, is to run around in the middle of the canyon, wearing black armor, while I sneak in the back of the base," Church outlined. Tucker had to admit, it wasn't that bad a plan. One problem.

"Sounds good, but Church... where are we going to get two suits of black armor?" Church looked toward the teleporter pointedly. Tucker followed, then looked back at the ghost. "Oh, fudgeberries," he whined. That thing hurt darnit!

/*/

"Church is rather mean," Flowdie remarked, apparently not noticing that he'd called the A.I. 'Church' instead of 'Alpha.'

"Didn't you get that off the whole thing with Project Freelancer?" Marley asked, puzzled. She had thought it rather obvious. I mean, pitting an already agnostic South against her brother by giving North an A.I. and not her? That was harsh man. Harsh.

"Yeah but... I don't know. He just seems..." Flowdie tried, failing to articulate what was bugging him about Church.

"Oh he's a jerk to pretty much everyone, but he cares. Ho boy does he care!" Marley said, deciding she didn't need to know exactly what Flowdie's thoughts were on Church. Church was Church and for now that was really all they needed to know.

"What?" Flowdie asked, snapping out of his musings. Marley began to feel a little uncomfortable, unsure how to explain what she meant without giving too much away. It was going to be hard. And besides, who was to say things on Chorus would turn out like they had in her visions, now that Project Red existed? Now that she had a plan for the A.I. fragments?

"See, he... well... there comes a point... Ah! Spoilers. Let's just say, he acts like a jerk, but he makes a good friend, alright?" she said, hoping he'd take her word for it.

"Huh. I'll have to take your word for it," Flowdie said, shrugging his shoulders. Ha! He took her word for it! Score!

"You know it's good," Marley said with a smirk, feeling rather proud of herself.

"Yeah. Doesn't make this any easier though," Flowdie remarked, looking back at the canyon.

"Think of the noobs, Flowdie. The noobs!" Marley remarked dramatically, waving her arms for emphasis.

"Stinking noobs," Flowdie growled, though the effect was rather ruined by his pout. Marley chuckled and ruffled his hair, making him squawk lightly in protest.

"Alright alright, enough. Hey, fancy some cocoa?" she asked with a smile. Flowdie answered it with one of his own.

"Yeah," he said with a sigh, flopping backwards onto her rather beat up sofa, "I could go for some cocoa."

"Two mugs of hot chocolate, coming right up!" Marley said with exaggerated cheer, causing Flowdie to chuckle lightly.

/?/

A/N: Whoo! Yeah. That ah... Dex and Rick ran away with me. And uh... Doughnut demanded I put something about his home life in there. Franklin now has three big brothers! And possible two more! And maybe another Uncle! Or maybe even a dad. Not too sure. Any way, yeah.

A/N 2: A~~nd I just made Doughnut's home life sadder. Man. What is it with RvB and tragic back stories huh? Geeze. Anyway, edited for coherence, spelling, and continuity. Whoo! 8/16/16


	12. Episode 11

Disclaimer: I own only Marly and a laptop. Flowdie's personality and the altered Red Team(AKA Project Red) might be considered mine. As well as parts of Doughnut's backstory. Or, any backstory really.

 **Episode 11:** Head Shot!

Church met Tucker at the other end of the teleporter. "Are you okay Tucker?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Tucker said, a little grouchy, before turning to Blue Base where Caboose was hesitating. "Come on Caboose!" he called.

"Does it hurt?" Caboose called back.

"No, not at all!" Tucker answered.

"Okay! Here I come!" Caboose yelled, then ran through the teleporter. Church turned to Tucker.

"Does it hurt for real?" he asked. When Tucker answered, Church could easily imagine he was smirking nastily.

"Oh~ho yeah. Big time." A moment later, Caboose came through.

"Ouchies!" he whined. To be honest, Tucker and Church couldn't tell if he said 'ouchies' or 'oh geezes.' But it didn't really matter, because Caboose was turning around, kinda slow, then said, "you lied to me." He said it in such a way, you'd think he had been betrayed by his brother.

/*/

Up in Marley's space craft, Flowers and Marley both fell over laughing. "The delivery!" Flowers gasped.

"I know! These guys are so funny! Even if they get hurt, they manage to make it funny! And Caboose... Caboose is a master. More than a little simple and likely having sustained quite a bit of brain damage, but a master none the less. And a decent sniper, when he puts his mind to it."

"Ya know, I'm kinda glad I got to watch from here. Thanks Marley."

"No problem Flowdie. It's my job to help others."

/*/

Sarge noticed movement near the center of the canyon and called Lopez up with the sniper rifle. "Do ya see something out there?" he asked the silent droid. While Lopez was looking with the scope, Sarge decided to call down to his other soldiers who were, oddly enough, arguing over how to pronounce the word 'both.' It kinda sounded like Grif was saying 'bolth.' Sarge shrugged it off. Sounding kinda like a Wisconsin or Illinois accent to him, and a man's accent was no arguing matter. "Grif! Quite your yammering and get up here!" Sarge called, interrupting the rather inane argument. Unknown to him, Tex was silently thanking him. O'Malley was just chanting 'kill kill kill' in her head. It wasn't helping her desire to return the pistol whip to the face the orange one had boasted about giving her. At all. "Need some help. Got some more of those special ops fellows headed toward the base." Grif and Simmons both moved to where they could see Sarge.

"As in, more than one?" Grif asked, surprised. What were at least three Spec Ops troopers doing in Blood Gulch? There was no value in the canyon at all! "Uh, maybe we should both go sir."

"Boooth." Simmons said, emphasizing the lack of an 'l' sound in the word. A sound which Grif almost added. Grif sighed.

"Seriously man, like a prat," he told the other soldier.

"Well well. Another brilliant idea from the think tank!" Sarge called down. Dex reprimanded himself for speaking without thinking. And acting a coward. "Why don't you both come up? Leave the prisoner alone? We can just put her on the honor system, have her guard herself."

"Good point sir," Grif sighed.

"You're gosh darn right it is! Now get your hide up here. We got just enough time for me to spray paint the bullseye on your back. Uh, by bullseye, I of course mean camouflage. Now move it cupcake!" Sarge yelled. Grif sighed.

"Yeah. I'll be right up." As he watched the orange armored form leave, Simmons gave a little sigh himself. It wasn't really fair how Grif got treated. Sure he was lazy and at the very least mildly irresponsible, but he wasn't really a bad guy. Just lazy and messy and not the best soldier.

/*/

Dex ran around the base, headed toward the roof. Of course, he wasn't doing this quietly. At least, not in his head. He was rather put out that he got sent out to face two Spec Ops guys. I mean, really! Out of the five soldiers there, _he_ was the one sent out? Sure Sarge was the kind of leader to sit back and direct, and Doughnut was on light duty, and Lopez was the only mechanic, but there was still Simmons! Oh, but of course, Sarge _liked_ Simmons didn't he? Oh yes, Teacher's Pet becomes Sargent's Pet. How quaint. Ah. Here was the ramp. Lovely. At least he might have a chance to use the sniper rifle, even if it was just a glorified telescope. When he got up there, Lopez handed over the sniper and Grif took up looking. For a moment, he thought he saw Church, but that couldn't be. Church was dead, and he doubted their rookie would take his armor. "I don't see any... uh oh. Yep. There's one," he said, spotting a black Spartan. This one was all black, no distinguishing marks whatsoever, so he knew it wasn't Marley, or that new guy she had, Hippie. Who was he? And... "Why is he just standing there?" Lopez shrugged and a moment later, the soldier turned, seemingly saw the base, and then hid behind the rock. Grif slowly looked up from the scope, and blinked. "Huh. That... was odd," he said, then returned to the scope, hoping to find the other one. Sarge had said there was more than one after all.

"They're definitely Special Ops," Sarge said. "I ain't seen troop movements this coordinated since- my days on SiHURCKGERURG!"

"Sarge?" Grif asked, turning around and lowering the sniper rifle in his hands. "Are you okay?"

"Uh? Who you talking to Red? Me?" Sarge asked, though he sounded like he was only pretending to have Sarge's Southern accent. Grif decided he could have a little fun with this and said,

"No. I'm talking to Lopez. Because, ya know, that's real rewarding." Lopez didn't even hesitate to attempt pistol whipping him. "Hey! That's my thing! No stealing Lopez," Grif chastised, as though speaking to an unruly teenager.

"Iugh, I'm fine," not-Sarge said. Grif quirked an eyebrow. Really? "I'm just... just so mad about these uh, these gosh darn Blues out here. See, I'm so gosh darn mad I could spit! Hugh ptt!" Grif blinked again.

"Um, sir? Did you just spit inside your own helmet?" he asked, just to be sure.

"Uh... yeah. I guess I did." Okay. That _really_ didn't seem like Sarge. One last test, and then he'd radio Simmons.

"Permission to speak freely sir?" Dex asked, hoping that Sarge hadn't been switched out when his back was turned. Someone sneaking on top of the base, knocking Sarge out, striping him, donning his armor, and then hiding the body all in a few moments? That's... that's just too scary for words!

"Go ahead." ' _IMPOSTER! But how'd he do it?_ ' Dex pondered, pointing his gun at Sarge's knee.

"That's really fudging gross," Grif said, then opened a private channel to Simmons. "I think Sarge is possessed or something. If he comes down, don't do anything he says."

"Why?" Simmons asks, real slow like. Dex gave the inside of his helmet a blank look

"He spit in his helmet," he said dully.

"... What? Man that's gross," Simmons replied.

"That's what I told him," Dex relayed, as though it was a proclamation that the planet was about to get blown up.

"Say what?! He let you?!" Simmons squawked, now fearing for reality.

"Gave me permission to speak freely. Believe me now?" Dex asked.

"Yeah... I'll be careful," Simmons said, obviously shaken.

"Guess I can't ask for more. Grif out," Dex said, cutting the connection. "I sure hope nothing bad happens because I let Sarge go," he muttered, then slammed his forehead into his palm. "Darn it! I jinxed us!

/*/

Simmons had just finished his call with Grif when Sarge came around the corner. "Hey man. What's up yo?" the red Sargent... asked?

"Uuh?" Simmons questioned, turning around. "What's going on out there sir?" he asked, just to be sure. Of course, Sarge wasn't acting like Sarge and Grif had already warned him but... possession? Really?

"What the, why, nothing. Why would you ask me if something's wrong?" Sarge asked, sounding a little flustered. Rick narrowed his unseen eyes at his CO.

"It's a perfectly normal question in a time of war, sir," Simmons said, not lowering his gun. Grif was right, Sarge was acting weird. Sounded weird too, kinda like another voice was coming out of him, trying to talk with his accent. And failing. Miserably. Seriously, not even _he_ was that bad at mimicking Sarge!

"Yeah well, you're starting to act kinda suspicious there, other red guy. So I'm... keeping my eye on you." Oh yeah. So not Sarge in that armor. But, just to be safe, non-lethal force.

"Sarge, I'm real sorry about this," Simmons said, firing a shot at Sarge's shoulder. The man dodged and hit him in the back of the head and his world went dark.

/*/

The fuzzing in Sarge's head stopped as he gave a great 'HURK' and his vision returned to see Simmons knocked out on the floor and the prisoner standing there calm as you please. "What in Sam Hill?! Where the... ? Who spit on my visor?!" he asked, rather disoriented. And disgusted if he's perfectly honest. Who spits _inside_ their helmet?

"Tex, there's not much time to explain," a transparent specter began. Deciding it would be a great time to gather intel, Sarge decided to stay quite. "So I'm just gonna give you the summary here okay? I'm a spirit now, and I'm trapped in the physical world. I possessed this Red guy so that I could sneak into the base and rescue you while the rest of our guys run around in the middle of the canyon, dressed in black armor that they got from going through the teleporter" the... spirit... said. ' _Oh, so that's what happened. Let's see how the prisoner reacts,_ ' Sarge thought, shifting his gaze to the woman, Tex.

"Okay," she said.

"What? That's it? 'Okay?' You're not surprised by any of this?" the ghost asked.

"No. It all pretty much makes sense," Tex replied.

"Not even the whole, 'Church is a ghost' thing? That didn't do anything for ya?"

"I can see right through you, it's pretty obvious."

"Okay, well, let me hop back in this guy and we'll get out of here," Church said. ' _Wait, no!_ ' Sarge thought before his mind went fuzzy again and he lost the use of his eyes.

/*/

Grif watched, transfixed, as Sarge lead the prisoner outside. "What is he thinking?" Grif muttered, just before Sarge fell to the ground. "That son of a gun!" Dex exclaimed, swiveling the gun around in an attempt to find the Spec. Ops. sniper that just landed a headshot on his Sargent. "You're going down you rotten scoundrel," he growled. Two injuries to his team in one day? Dex was not happy, not happy at all. Marley and Flowdie were in for a rough time the next time they picked him up. That was when he saw the Spec. Ops. guys hightailing it out of there and Simmons running out of the base.

"Who made Sarge knock me out?!" the maroon soldier yelled, firing bursts at the running Spec. Ops.

"Atta boy Simmons, atta boy," Dex muttered, firing three rounds after the fleeing soldiers. He leapt off the top of the base and ran to Sarge. "Oh man, that's... wait. He's not gone yet," he said, kneeling beside Sarge's bleeding body. "Simmons! Get over here! Sarge's in a bad way!"

"What!? They got Sarge?!" Simmons yelled, running over.

"Yeah," Dex stated grimly. Rick ran his eyes over the bleeding head wound, then saw the bullet lodged just above his right eye.

"Looks like the energy shielding unit in his armor combined with his helmet robbed the bullet of most of it's penetrating power. If we remove the bullet, there's a chance he might pull through. It's slight, but it's a chance," he said. Dex nodded, then pulled out his emergency med kit.

"Exactly what I thought. Now hold his head steady, I don't fancy cutting him further than he already is," he said, pulling out the energy tweezers Marley had provided. Rick firmed his jaw and held his Sargent's head while Grif preformed a hasty field surgery. It was just one of those days.

/*/

The colors were washed out, the air was still, and his voice echoed like no-body's business when he yelled. Sarge had no idea what had happened, or where the base had gone, but he was pretty sure he was in Blood Gulch still. So, he did the logical thing in such a situation. He yelled "Hello, can anybody hear me!" over and over. After about the fifth call, somebody answered. It looked like a blue guy, but the color was faded.

"Holy cow! Will you stop yelling," he said, running up, "I'm here."

"What is this place?" Sarge asked. Hey, even if it was a Blue, it was somebody to talk to.

"Well... it's kinda... hard to explain. Um..." the blue guy trailed off, looking to the side for a moment before looking back. "You were shot in the head buddy. So, here ya are."

"Am I dead?" Sarge asked. Really, it was the only explanation, but darn if it wouldn't be disappointing.

"Are you dead?" the other guy repeated, sounding like he was actually thinking about it, but that might just have been the sarcasm. "Well. Yeah. That's how I ended up here."

"Are you some kind of angel?" Sarge asked. He wasn't sure if he was taking this seriously... or just messing with this weirdo Blue. Either way, it relieved the boredom.

"Am I an angel?" the Blue guy asked with a laugh. "Yeah, hem, yeah actually I am. I'm an angel. Um, do you want to go to heaven? Cause it's like, ten bucks to get in."

"Well I... I didn't really bring any... my wallet's back in the car..." Sarge stammered, deciding that even if he didn't buy in to all this, it was fun to at least play along.

"Hey, you don' have it there huh? Well uh, that's too bad. Pretty lousy reason to be sent to hell for all eternity," the Blue(angel?) guy remarked.

"I don't remember dying," Sarge pointed out, wondering if that was normal for people who got shot in the head.

"Yeah, that's my fault too. I was kinda possessing your body at the time that you were shot. Sorry 'bout that." ' _Well this guy doesn't sound all that sorry about getting me shot in the head and stealing my memory! Oh wait... he's that darn dirty Blue ghost what took control of me! Darn dirty rotten scoundrel!_ ' Sarge thought, glaring at the 'ghost' under his helmet.

"Now hold on a second, that ain't fair!" he shouted, because it really wasn't!

"Not fair?!" the other guy asked, getting irritated. "Yeah, join the freakin' club! I got shot by my own tank." ' _Okay. Gotta admit, that is rather unfair,_ ' Sarge admitted to himself, but of course he didn't say anything out loud.

"Target locked," a mechanical female voice said. Sarge followed the other guy, who he supposed was really Church, to see a large battle tank aiming it's cannon at Church.

"Oh ha ha. Very funny, Shelia," Church groused at the tank. "Shut up. Ya know I still haven't forgiven you. I didn't say you could talk to me yet. Go... get... go over to the base. Shoo shoo." The tank lowered it's cannon and trundled off, for all the world like a scolded dog. Suddenly, a section of the land began to waver like a heat mirage and Sarge saw Grif kneeling by his body, Simmons watching from above.

"Sarge! Don't you give up on me soldier! Do you hear me?! I'm ordering you...!" Grif yelled.

"Wait a second. Who's there?!" Sarge yelled, not sure if he was just seeing things or not.

"Looks like your guys are trying to save you," Church stated, watching impassively. Grif started hitting Sarge's chest with the butt of his gun.

"You gotta breath man! You gotta pull through!" Grif yelled as he hit the prone body, "come on Sarge!" Was that desperation in his voice? But no. Why would it be? Grif hated him! And the feeling was mutual! Wasn't it? But... if Grif really hated him... why was he trying so hard to save him? Ah! It was just so darn confusing! Time to fall back on what he knew.

"That is not the way you were trained to do that, Private!" Sarge yelled at the apparition.

"He can't hear you," Church stated apathetically.

"Grif, this isn't working. We have to try something else," Simmons said, watching Grif beat up Sarge's body.

"If he gives you mouth to mouth, I'm leaving," Church said, disgust creeping into his voice.

"Maybe you should give him mouth to mouth," Simmons suggested.

"I'm leaving," Church said, though he made no move to.

"I can't believe how hard they're trying to save me," Sarge said, getting all choked up.

"Why wouldn't they?" Church asked. "I mean, my team didn't but why wouldn't yours?"

"I thought they didn't like me," Sarge admitted.

"Aw, don't sell yourself short. I don't even know you and here I am about to guide you to heaven for only five bucks," Church said.

"Now hold on. If you're an angel, how come you ain't got no wings?" ' _Heh. This is actually kinda fun. Though... I would rather like to live.'_

"Because no-body rang a bell. Hahaha. Seriously, do you have the money or don't you?" Church(yeah, that was his name) demanded. Sarge wasn't listening. He was too busy focusing on the land of the living and all the things he'd miss being able to do. Like mess with Grif's head.

"Oh I feel the worst about Grif. I always made fun of him. I never even told him, he was my son," Sarge said, getting all choked up.

"No way. The orange guy is your son?" Church asked, interested despite himself.

"Nah. I just wanted to mess with him one last time. But now I'll never get that chance." And darn it but he was really upset at the missed opportunity!

"He's breathing! I saved Sarge!" Grif exclaimed happily.

"I'm what?!" Sarge exclaimed in shock, staring at his laziest soldier in shock. Had he really just said what Sarge thought he said?

"He's what?!" Church exclaimed in equal shock.

"Well I'll be a monkey's... they saved me," Sarge said in awe as the odd, echoy plain faded.

"No! Wait! We need to even the sides!" Church called.

"Thanks for yer help, wingless angel fella. Will I remember any of this?"

"Yes! But only if you pay me two dollars!" Church called.

/*/

Seeing Sarge get up and cough was a relief for Grif. He hadn't been sure that would work. "What?! What happened here?" Sarge asked, looking from Simmons to Grif then back.

"Sir! You got shot in the head, so we took out the bullet, sewed you up, gave you CPR, and saved you sir," Simmons answered. Grif was just a little busy not whooping in exhilaration.

"I always believed in you Simmons," Sarge said. Simmons gave off the feeling of being just a little sheepish.

"Ugh... actually... it's Grif you should be thanking. He did all the work," the maroon soldier admitted.

"Grif?" Sarge asked, disbelieving. Grif, the lazy idiot, did all the work... of saving him from death?

"Yes sir," Simmons confirmed.

"Grif, why the heck would you give someone CPR for a bullet wound in the head?! That doesn't make a lick of sense!" The orange soldier sighed heavily.

"You're welcome sir," Grif said sulkily, pulling himself to his feet and brushing the dirt off his knees.

"I mean it's all so darn inconsistent! What would you do if they stabbed me in the toe, rub aloe vera on my neck?!" Sarge demanded, confused by their insane methods. Grif sighed, straightening his back and giving his CO a level look.

"Actually sir, I'd wash it with Vodka then bind it with strips of cloth until we could get you to proper medical help," Grif replied before turning on his heel and walking inside. "I'm gonna go check on Doughnut now, since a bump on the head is so much more dangerous than a bullet wound," he said sarcastically, leaving Sarge and Simmons to stare after him. Simmons felt his respect for the orange soldier go up a notch... as well as his 'Is-Dex' evidence poll, but he ignored that last one. He didn't care if he was in denial, Grif and Dex could not be the same person!

"Don't you cheek me soldier!" Sarge yelled after him. Grif just waved a hand lazily in the air, tossing,

"Whatever you say sir," over his shoulder as he did. Simmons couldn't help but chuckle. Sarge rounded on him.

"Are you insubordinatein' now too?!" he asked.

"No sir. I was merely appreciating the dark humor Grif displayed. Permission to speak plainly sir?" Rick said, completely relaxed, not to mention amused.

"Denied!" Sarge barked. Rick blinked, then shrugged.

"Alright. Maybe you should let up on Grif. If you insult him for doing well, you are only going to encourage rebellion. Good day sir," he said, speaking his mind anyway and walking away from his stunned Sargent. Like a boss.

"What is going on here?" Sarge asked himself.

"Your team is finally coming together, Sarge," Marley said, blurring into view. "It wouldn't hurt to listen to Simmons and pay closer attention to the emotions in Grif's voice. You might just get better quality work out of him if you do," she said before sitting him down. "Now sit still and let me look over this wound."

"Doughnut..." Sarge tried, but Marley's grip on him was too strong.

"I've already checked him. He's good. You, however, are less so. I must say though, for the limited resources and experience your men have with such things, they did rather well," Marley said, poking the tender wound. Sarge hissed and fell silent. Perhaps Marley and Simmons were right. He wasn't the best listener. A few minutes later, Marley patted his head lightly. "That's you done. I suggest you get some rest. The Blues won't be making a move again today. Probably not for another few days. Take it easy and let yourself recover. You're going to need it," she told him before blurring back into the surrounding area. Sarge sighed and leaned against the base's wall, closing his eyes and drifting off into a natural nap.

/*/

Meanwhile, Simmons was fiddling, once again, with the broken teleporter Marley had dumped on him. "Sarge is rather confused you know," said Spartan's voice said before she blurred into view, leaning against Simmons' door.

"How'd you get in here?" Simmons asked curiously. She shouldn't have been able to get through the door without alerting him by opening it.

"A woman has her ways," Marley purred. Simmons could imagine the mad grin on her face. He sighed and set the teleporter aside.

"Why are you here, Marley?" he asked, turning his full attention on her.

"Can't a girl just drop in to say 'hi?'" she asked, sashaying up to where Simmons was sitting at his workstation. His helmet was to the side of the workstation, so when Simmons sighed and dropped his head down, his rust red hair hid his clear green eyes.

"Not to me, and doubly not when it's you. Now, why are you here?" he asked. Marley huffed, but sat down.

"You really got Sarge thinking, Simmons. He's finally beginning to question his treatment of Grif. And I have to say, I'm rather pleased with how you've finally started standing up for Grif. What baffles me... is why you haven't been standing up for him before now," she said. Simmons sighed and looked into the distance, like he was staring through the walls of the base.

"Before now... it was easier. Grif was... he was Grif. But now... more and more... I've been seeing Dex. He'll do something, move a certain way, and I have to remind myself that the armor's solid orange, not accented with gray. He'll say something and I'll have to tell myself that he's Grif, not Dex. But even with that... when Grif gets reamed out, I keep putting Dex in his place and it just... feels _wrong._ Before, he really did seem like an idiot but now... now _I'm_ the idiot. And it... I... Grif's treatment by the whole team is wrong. Except for when he blew up the Warthog. But even then, it was a little overboard. We honestly didn't know about the tank. And that was one of the days I _really_ had to tell myself it was Grif, not Dex," Simmons explained. Marley nodded. Grif had been acting more like his Agent Persona lately. She figured it had something to do with the legitimate threats to his team that had been popping up with more regularity these past few days. It was kind of expected actually.

"I see. Well, keep up the good work and... what you told Sarge was true. Remember that, pay attention to the emotion in a soldier's voice, and you might actually make a decent CO some day," she told the maroon soldier before clapping him on the shoulder and standing.

"Where are you headed now?" Simmons asked. Marley chuckled softly and Simmons just knew she was grinning again.

"I'm headed to see a man about a spar. I've already checked on Doughnut by the way. He was asleep when I dropped by. He's doing just fine. I also approve of the treatment you gave Sarge," she said. Simmons sighed.

"You know as well as I it was Grif who brought Sarge back from the brink," he said, giving her a look. Marley sighed as well.

"Actually... He's who I'm going to check on. He seemed a little... upset over how Sarge treated him, and after he made such an effort to save the man," she revealed. Simmons sighed again, slumping a little at the reminder.

"Yeah. Sarge was unnecessarily cruel with that. That's part of the reason I stood up to him. Plus, and this is going to sound crazy, I felt like Rick was screaming in my ear, telling me he was out of line," he said, running his neck uncomfortably. Marley sighed and gave him a quick one-armed hug.

"I understand Simmons. I don't think you have Split Personality Disorder, but I'm afraid it's teetering on the edge. Just... go along with Rick's instincts a bit more and don't fight with yourself. Maybe... maybe it'll help," she said uncertainly. Simmons shrugged.

"It's not that bad, just a little odd is all," Rick said. Marley was glad her helmet hid the uncertain look in her eyes and the fact that she was chewing on her lip. It was a noticeable shift, what had just happened. Simmons always stood straight, but he was stiff, awkward. Rick wasn't. He stood perfectly straight and perfectly comfortable. Simmons was always just a little nervous, but Rick... She had never seen him with his helmet off when he was in Agent Mode, but now it was obvious that when he went Agent, there was a change in his face. That smirk was just a little to confident for Simmons. Even his voice changed, granted it was slight, but it was there. It got a little deeper and a little rougher, like Simmons' nervousness made his voice a little squeakier than it really was.

"If you say so, _Rick_ ," she said, putting emphasis on the name she called him. He blinked and frowned, and even that didn't look like a Simmons expression.

"That bad huh?" he asked, then sighed and he tensed back up, nervous demeanor back in full force. "I'm not always aware when the shift happens. But I'm fairly sure... Fairly sure I'm fully Rick when in a combat situation."

"Well, separate personality or not, I'm glad you're fully Rick when under fire. It wouldn't be good if you froze because of nerves," Marley told him. He sighed again and waved her out of the room, looking like a rather weary mix between Simmons and Rick. Psychological considerations aside, Marley had to admit, it wasn't an unpleasant mix, though it was still odd. There was still too big a disconnect.

"Just... go. I'm fine. Or I will be anyway," he said with a sigh, though he tried to give her a smile. She had a feeling it didn't turn out quite as confident as he'd have liked.

"Fine, fine... Ya know, that reminds me of a movie quote," Marley said. Simmons quirked an eyebrow questioningly. "'Fine stands for Freaked-out, Insecure, Neurotic, and Emotional,'" Marley revealed before vanishing in a ripple of distorted light. Simmons sighed as he closed the door once more before resting his forehead against the cold metal.

"Way to make me feel... fine," he whispered before turning back to the teleporter. He was almost finished with it, and didn't real right leaving it be.

/*/

Marley found Grif at his hidden gym, walloping the punching bag he'd appropriated. His brown eyes, which many would say were of a dark amber color, were intent and focused. Piercing. Marley smiled at him, and made her entrance. "Care for a sparring partner?" she asked. Grif spun around, hands up in a prefect guard position before she even finished. She chuckled and started to shuck off her armor. Grif huffed, but he was smiling, eyes soft and fond.

"So, what brings you to my humble gym?" he asked.

"I'll take that as a 'yes please, Madam Black,'" she said slyly, sliding into a combat stance in her under armor. Grif chuckled, throwing a solid punch at her shoulder. She rolled with it and slapped his head with the back of her hand.

"No, seriously, what brings you here?" he asked, once he'd come up from the roll he'd preformed to minimize the damage done by Marley's hit.

"Just checking up on my favorite weapons specialist," Marley said, dropping low and sweeping at Grif's legs. He jumped and kicked out at her head, missing as she rolled forward before landing a light punch to the small of his back.

"Favorite huh? And why are you holding back?"

"Yes, favorite," Marley said, falling back and kicking out with both legs as she supported herself with her arms. "And I'm only holding back my strength, not my skill. You're just better than you thought." Grif huffed out a laugh, dancing lightly on his toes, eyes flicking here and there looking for an opening.

"Me? A decent fighter? Now you're just pulling my leg," he said, suddenly lunging forward toward her right side, before shifting and swinging at her head. Marley blocked and countered with a swift jab followed up with a side kick that forced some separation between them.

"Come now Dex! You're selling yourself short!" Marley smiled. Grif shook his head, kicking out at her.

"No, I'm really not. I was one of the worst when it came to hand to hand in basic," he said. Marley chuckled.

"Well, you've certainly improved since then. Due in no small part to the training I've put you through. I was never the best, but I was always a fair hand at it," she said, just a touch smug. Grif huffed, just before Marley lashed out with a lighting fast combo and laid him out on his back. "I think you're the one holding back, Dex. Still thinking like Private Grif. I came for a spar with Agent Orange," she said, pouting lightly at him. Grif huffed and pushed himself back to his feet. He rolled his shoulders and bounced on his toes a few times before centering himself and flashing her a cheeky grin.

"Round two, Marley?" Dex asked. Marley laughed and made the first move. This round lasted a little longer, but still ended with Dex on his back. By now, the sun had set. "It's late," Dex said, accepting Marley's hand and allowing her to help him up. "I should get going," he added, already headed toward his makeshift shower. Marley sighed, but put her armor back on.

"Good spar, Dex. One last thing before I leave... don't be afraid to care. A compassionate CO is often more successful than one who couldn't care less," she said when the man came back, dressed in his under armor rather than his gym clothes. "Take it from someone who knows," she added, putting her helmet back on and vanishing completely into the night. Dex shook his head and put his armor back on before trudging back to the red base. When he got there, the rest of the team was eating dinner.

"Told you he'd show up just when we were about to eat," Simmons said smugly.

"Grif! Get in here!" Sarge yelled, brandishing a BBQ rib. Grif quirked an eyebrow.

"First, where did you find ribs? Second, since when did we have BBQ sauce? Or a grill for that matter?" he asked, already making himself a plate.

"Are you questioning a superior officer Private?!" Sarge barked, slamming a fist against the table. Grif shrugged.

"Depends, superior in the field or superior in intelligence?" he asked, pulling out his seat with a faint smirk.

"Just sit down and eat your dinner Grif. It saves on head aches," Simmons said, popping a forkful of... something... into his mouth. Grif shrugged, but threw the other man a smirk before sitting down.

"Aye aye, chief budget officer sir!" Simmons growled and swatted at him, but there didn't seem to really be any heat behind it. Grif laughed and settled in for a decent dinner and celebrated surviving another day.

/*/

When Marley returned to her ship, she was greeted by Flowdie. "Find what you were looking for?" he asked. She shook her head with a fond smile, taking her helmet off.

"Sarge and Doughnut are doing well, Simmons is close to having split personality disorder as well as the truth about Grif, Doughnut's pouting about getting stuck on flag duty, and Sarge is thinking about how he treats his team after Simmons finally stood up for Grif. Ya know... I'm rather looking forward to their reactions when they find out Project Red is the Blood Gulch Red Team. Especially Doughnut. He's getting the burgundy armor, as you know, but command isn't sending him the same color."

"What color are they sending him?" Flowdie asked. Marley grinned in a distinctly evil manner.

"Not telling~!" she sang, heading back into her living quarters. Flowdie groaned. No way was he getting anything more out of her today.

"You... are evil Marley," he said quietly to the still air around him before he too retired to his living quarters.

/?/

A/N: and Simmons sticks up for Grif! Honestly, Grif gets the short end of the stick a lot in the series, and so you get Simmons telling Sarge off for picking on his so much, especially when Grif does something right. Until next time, Caio.

A/N 2: Edited from it's original format to fit the rest of the story, flow better, and have better spelling. You are welcome. 8/16/16


	13. Episode 12

Disclaimer: I only own Marly and a laptop.

 **Episode 12:** Armor Troubles, Grenades, and Nick-Names

Doughnut opened the crate command had sent him and groaned. Pink. It was pink. Why, in the name of all that was good in this universe, would command send him PINK _ARMOR_?! He shook his head. It wasn't pink, he told himself. It was just... faded. Yeah! It was just pale red! Not pink. He put it on and looked at himself in the mirror, helmet under his arm. Short cropped, slightly messy sandy blond hair, cornflower blue eyes, boyish face, average shoulders bearing up heavy pink metal plating stared back at him from the polished surface. "This is ridiculous. I look like a Ken doll," he sighed, dropping his head in the face of the not-so-manly image staring back at him. "NO!" he told himself firmly, jerking his head back up, determination alight in his eyes. "It's lightish red!" he told himself just as firmly, putting his _light-ish red_ helmet on. Denial firmly in place, he made his way outside. "Dude! This is sweet! Command was so happy I got the blue flag, they gave me my own color armor!" he told Grif and Simmons. They shared a look before Grif spoke up.

"Uh, hey Doughnut?" he said, sounding a little... confused.

"What?" Doughnut asked, dreading that they'd tell him it wasn't lightish red.

"About your armor..." Simmons picked up, sounding even more awkward than usual.

"What about it?" That dread from a moment ago? Twice as strong. Doughnut began pleading in his head, ' _Please don't say it, please don't say it, please don't say it!_ '

"How do I put this? Your armor is, um, it's a little, uh, um... Grif? Uh, you wanna help me out here?" the maroon soldier asked, apparently uncomfortable about bursting Doughnut's bubble. The mantra in the Private's head grew more frantic.

"It's pink! Your armor is freakin' pink!" Grif stated, sounding a little shocked. ' _NO! HE SAID IT! HE SAID IT! DENY! DENY DENY!_ ' Doughnut's mind screamed.

"Yeah, that's it. Pink," Simmons confirmed. ' _GAH! NOT BOTH OF THEM! DENY HARDER!_ DENY HARDER!'

"Pink?!" Doughnut echoed, desperate hysteria building, "It's not pink!" ' _Must deny, must deny, deny or go mad!_ '

"Pink!" Grif repeated, a little firmer. ' _Not pink. Not pink. Deny! Deny! Save sanity!_ '

"Yeah, definitely pink," Simmons said, nodding. _'No! No! Lies! Lies! Not pink!'_ Doughnut forced himself not to hyperventilate. ' _Deny deny deny!_ ' his mind yelled at him, ' _it's the only way to stay sane!_ '

"You guys are color blind. Why would they give me pink armor?" he asked. ' _They hate you. No! They don't! It was all they had! Deny the pink,_ deny the pink!'

"Hey! Don't ask, don't tell," Grif said. Doughnut glared at him(' _Not gay not gay do not kill_ do not kill! _'_ ). And here he thought they were getting along. Jerk.

"That's not funny," Simmons said, trying to defend the younger soldier.(' _He may live. Grif must die. No! Do. Not. Kill. Teammate!_ ') Grif chuckled lightly, like he was trying, and failing, to hold it back.

"It's a little funny," he said. ' _Must. Not. Team. Kill!_ '

"Look at it! It's not pink!" Doughnut denied again, fighting back the voice in the back of his head telling him to beat Grif to a bloody pulp. "It's like a... a lightish red."

"Guess what," Grif began, still sounding highly amused, "they already have a color for lightish red. You know what it's called? Pink!" he finished. Simmons nodded off to the side, hammering it in just a little more. Denial constantly being beaten down, there was only one thing Doughnut could say.

"I hate you guys." ' _Must. Not. Kill. Teammate! Will. Get. Court marshaled! Law is rather gray on the matter of kneecaps. And laxatives. Oh! Lemon in his orange juice! Rocks in his bed! Mud in his shampoo! Oh, the marvelous, dastardly deeds I can still get away with~,_ ' Doughnut mused darkly, glaring at Grif.

"Well hello, dirtbags," Sarge said, running on on top of the base followed closely by Lopez. Seeing Doughnut in his pink armor, he added, "and a fine hello to you, madam."

"It's light red," Doughnut insisted, though he was fairly sure he could hear Grif laughing at him. Sure it could have been Simmons, but Grif seemed more inclined to laugh than the IT wizard. 'S _piders in their beds. Snakes in their boots. Worms in their food. Lemon in their drinks. Laxatives in their sweets._ '

"Don't get your panties in a wad there, Barbie," Sarge retorted. Even Simmons had to stifle a snicker at that, though both he and Grif had a feeling that if they could have seen Doughnut's face, they wouldn't have been laughing. "Do ya have a package for me?"

"Package?" Dex muttered as Doughnut nodded and pulled out a piece of techno... metally... something.

"Yes sir," the private said, holding it up.

"Excellent," Sarge said, moving to take the package from Doughnut.

"They said this speech unit should work for Lopez," the private informed the Sargent.

"Speech unit?" Grif questioned as Doughnut handed said item over with a 'here you go.'

"Affirmative. Command was fresh out of speech units when I started building Lopez, but once I get this baby installed, I'll finally have someone intelligent to talk to," Sarge said sharply. "No offense Simmons."

"Oh, none taken," Simmons drawled. "I know you think everyone younger than you can't possibly be all that intelligent. After all, how could we when we haven't experienced as much as you?" Doughnut chuckled appreciatively at the comeback. It may not have been the best, but the delivery was near perfect.

"Cheeky private," Sarge muttered, setting about installing the speech unit.

"Wait... so Lopez really is a robot?" Grif asked.

"Of course. Didn't the not speaking and the drinking motor oil thing tip you off?" Simmons said. Grif shrugged.

"Well I was suspicious, but I thought he might have just been the silent macho type. Seems pretty stupid now I think about it, there's limits to those kinds of things ya know. It's just... I've got this... thing... about androids," he said, a hint of fear in his voice. Simmons shivered.

"Betazoid 771," he muttered before pushing the memories of that particular misadventure out of his head. "Hey sir? You really should ground yourself before handling that card," he said, noticing Sarge moving to insert the speech unit into Lopez.

"How come?" Sarge asked, having stilled his activity to watch his men.

"Well, static can damage fragile equipment like that," Simmons said, nodding toward the speech unit.

"Aw, that's an urban legend they used to sell those stupid bracelets," Sarge retorted. Simmons shared a look with Grif.

"Sir, who's the IT guy around here?" Simmons asked with all the weary dignity of an overworked housewife lecturing her three year old.

"Uh... you?" Sarge asked, now looking like he was considering it.

"Exactly. So, ya gonna listen to me, or are you going to be like Grif and mess up," the maroon soldier asked.

"Low blow man," Grif muttered.

"Yeah, but being compared to you might just get him to listen," Simmons shot back.

"Fair enough," Grif relented. Doughnut was now questioning the over all sanity level of the canyon. And their CO in particular. Just what had Grif done to deserve such hate? He really wasn't all that bad to be honest, a bit rude and lazy, but he had some good points every now and again.

"Fine," Sarge relented, and grounded himself before putting the speech unit in. "Done and done. Lopez, active speech unit." There was a digital fuzzing sound, then a thoroughly bored mechanical voice began to speak.

"Good morning, my speech functions have been activated. Model number 010113..."

"Can we skip the model number?" Doughnut asked.

"Very well. My name is Lopez," the robot responded.

"Yeah, like we didn't already know that," Grif commented. Lopez raised his gun threateningly.

"Good job Princess Peach," Sarge said. Doughnut growled.

"Seriously, for the last time, not! PINK!" Simmons took pity on the poor guy and patted him on the shoulder.

"Sorry Doughnut, but the armor's pink. Just put up with the teasing for a few days to three weeks and it'll all be over," he said. Doughnut sighed, slouching just a little.

"If you say so."

"I know so, because if they keep picking on you past three weeks, I'll beat 'em up for you," Simmons said, pulling out one of his knives and flipping it about with great skill and dexterity. Doughnut didn't know if he should be touched by the gesture... or freaked out. ' _Yeah_ , _he may live. But spiders in the bed isn't out of the question. Just make sure they're harmless. Or maybe worms. Frogs?_ '

/*/

Lopez kept chattering on, though no-one really cared what he was saying. "Man, first he doesn't speak at all, now we can't get him to shut up. Why is he even telling us this?" Grif asked.

"Why are you asking me?" Simmons asked back.

"Well, you said it yourself. You're the IT guy around here," Grif pointed out. Simmons shook his head.

"IT, not robotics," he clarified. Grif blinked.

"Wait... there's a difference?" he asked, unclear on just what the distinction was. He was a weapons expert and wheel jockey, not a rocket scientist.

"Yes, now shush. I'm trying to remember how to code a video virus," Simmons shot back. Grif quirked an eyebrow. ' _Well that was a Rick comment,_ ' he thought, eying his teammate contemplatively.

"Why are you doing that?" he asked, though he had a feeling he already knew.

"So that the next time the Blues annoy me, I can put a virus in their computers that makes it so that all they can see when they turn on their HUDs is a video of you dancing the macarana," Simmons informed him with a hint of malicious glee. Grif was confused. How would Simmons have footage like that?

"You dance the macarana?" Doughnut piped up. He wanted to know where and when so he could avoid it... or maybe he should join in? He did have pink armor after all, it's be all too easy to play with people's minds like this. Hum... this bore more thought.

"Shut up!" Grif and Simmons chorused at the pink soldier who raised his hands and turned back toward the canyon. Grif threw his arm around Simmons' shoulders and pulled him around.

"I dance the macarana?" Grif asked, just a little confused.

"Well, you might. And really, it was just a suggestion. What else would I force upon them? Sarge cooing over the warthog? Singing to his shotgun?" Simmons asked, a little surprised by Grif's action. Not to mention his arm strength. ' _I thought Grif was too lazy to work out,_ ' he mused.

"More likely to happen than me dancing the macarana. And that video would go on for longer. More torment," Grif said, releasing the slightly taller man.

"Hum... yeah... OH! LAYERING! Every time they try to get rid of it, another video pops up! Yes... more torment. More work, but more pay off. Yes... we'd be able to hear their anguished cries from here!" Simmons replied, putting his confusion to the side as more dastardly thoughts and devious plots came to mind.

"... There's something seriously wrong with you, Private Simmons," Doughnut said lowly. "Something really, seriously, wrong."

"Thanks for that vote of confidence Doughnut," Simmons said, rolling his eyes at the younger man, though he wouldn't be able to see it. Grif chuckled as he leaded against the wall. This was Blood Gulch, these were his friends, and come what may, they were going to pull through. ' _I'll make sure of it._ '

/*/

A couple hours later, Simmons and Grif were standing on the base. Doughnut had gone off goodness knows where and Simmons had dragged Grif back from his favorite napping spot not too long ago. Hence, the orange soldier was a little miffed. Especially when Simmons asked, "Hey, you ever wonder why we're here?"

"No. I never wonder why we're here. Simper Fi, suck up," Grif snarled. Just then, Lopez made an odd noise, causing both Grif and Simmons to turn. Grif tuned his helmet to the private channel and said to Simmons, "That was really close to the same sound Sarge made before he went all weird!"

"Best be careful then. No telling what Lopez will do now," Simmons replied over the same channel.

"You okay Lopez?" Grif asked, discretely aiming his gun at the wire sending power to the servos in the robot's arms.

"Guys, I need to give you a warning," the robot said, though he didn't sound a thing like Lopez. For one thing, he actually sounded like he had emotion.

"A warning?" Dex asked, though he didn't move his gun. He considered it good behavior not shooting the robot's arms stiff.

"Yeah! The mean lady's going to kill you! She's fixing the tank!" whoever was in control of Lopez exclaimed wildly.

"Well. That's certainly something to warn us about. But here's the thing... why tell us if you're not really Lopez? Why would you care?" Simmons asked reasonably, aiming for the legs. Grif nodded his agreement, both of Simmons' question and his choice of target.

"Well... because... it's complicated okay?!" not-Lopez retorted, sounding frustrated.

"Is there a girl involved?" Grif asked, lowering the gun, but only slightly. "Girls complicate everything."

"YES! Okay? Like I said. Mean. Lady. Fix. TANK!" Lopez shouted. Simmons just faintly heard a female computerized voice say, 'target locked,' before the base was rocked by an explosion.

"SON OF A GUN!" the three on top of the base yelled, hunkering down.

"SIMMONS!" Sarge yelled from the green, "I'm coming around in the warthog. Be ready to take the gunner position when I pass by."

"Roger that," Simmons replied from the ramp, which was a safer position that the roof during a tank attack.

"There's no need for me to go. I'll stay here and look out for Doughnut. And see if I can't find some grenades while I'm at it," Dex said, heading toward the storage unit.

"Good idea. Do try and blow the tank up, if you can," Simmons said, hopping into the gunner position as the warthog pulled up. Dex rolled his eyes and continued on his way.

"Crazy gunner," he muttered.

/*/

"I'm on board," Simmons said, taking control of the mini-gun mounted to their jeep. He really hoped Sarge had a good plan. And knew how to drive the vehicle Otherwise, this would be a really, really, short ride.

"Alright. Here's the plan," Sarge said as they drove off toward the tank. Before he could get further, the tank blew them up. Surviving due to the subtle enhancements Marley had made to the armor, Sarge and Simmons ran back to the base.

"Not a word, Grif. Not. A. Word," Simmons bit out, his left side burning. He was fairly sure he had cracked a rib or two. And maybe that rock he'd slammed into.

"Aw~! But I had such a wonderful welcome back speech all planed out~!" Grif said, far too pleased with himself. And standing beside a box of grenades.

"Yeah... sure. Hey Sarge, want to finish telling me the plan _now?_ " Simmons snarked.

"If we survive this, I'm killing both of you," Sarge muttered darkly. "Slowly," he added, tank missiles exploding outside, causing them to crouch.

"Hey! What are you guys doing out here?!" Doughnut yelled, running up the other side of the base.

"That chick in black armor's back!" Grif called from the top of his ramp.

"What?!" Doughnut yelled back, outraged. "The one that stuck a grenade to my head?" he asked.

"That's the one," Simmons agreed with a nod.

"The same one whose fault it is I'm stuck in this light red armor?!" Doughnut asked. Simmons was fairly sure the kid was shaking by this point.

"Doughnut, I understand the need to safeguard your masculinity, but really dude. It's a whole lot faster to just say 'pink,'" Grif said.

"Oo~ho! Oh I've been waiting for this!" Doughnut said with savage glee. Grif actually felt a little scared as Doughnut ran to the edge of the base. "HEY BITCH! REMEMBER ME?!" Doughnut yelled at the tank, picking up a grenade from Grif's box.

"Doughnut?" Grif questioned warily.

"I SAVED SOMETHING FOR YA!" Doughnut continued, either not hearing Grif or choosing to ignore him. He chucked the hissing blue explosive at the tank, which it reached, even going so far as to hit the operator and sticking to Tex's black armor.

/*/

"Man. That girl's got a really good arm," Tucker commented to Caboose, meaning Doughnut. Caboose only nodded, eyes fixed on the blue thing stuck to Tex. Inside Shelia.

"Oh crap," Tex muttered when the explosive made contact. She hadn't thought anyone could throw a grenade that far, that accurately.

"Hell yeah!" Doughnut shouted, his voice echoing and carrying to the Blues. "Three points you bitch!" Then the grenade exploded. Church was shocked.

"My Godiva! NO!" he shouted, watching as the tank flipped over once again. He began to run, calling out to Tex.

/*/

"Um..." Simmons said, watching the possessed Lopez run toward the tank, "where is Lopez going?"

"To fight the enemy head on," Sarge said, sounding rather proud. "In hand to hand combat. Mano y mano. What a brave soldier. Lopez, I never really understood you, but you hated Grif, and that's the most important thing there is." Simmons turned to Sarge.

"Shouldn't we help him?"

"Nah. That would just ruin the moment," Sarge said.

"Any~way. Doughnut! That was amazing man!" Grif said, running back up to see the pink soldier, who was laughing evilly at the edge of the base.

"Try to blow up my head with a grenade huh? Well, I got you. Oh~! I got you," Doughnut muttered.

"Hey! Light red guy!" Grif called, "That was some throw you made."

"Yes. Yes it was. I'm rather proud of that one. One of my best. I recon the grenade actually stuck to that evil chick," Doughnut stated proudly.

"Remember when you first arrived? And I said I refused to call you 'Doughnut?'" Grif asked, a smirk forming as he considered the new name he'd come up with for the pink armored soldier.

"What about it?" Doughnut asked, turning away from the blasted tank and looking at Grif curiously. The other Spartan chuckled.

"Well, I think I've got the perfect nickname for you."

"Yeah?" Doughnut asked, intrigued despite himself.

"How does 'Eagle Eye' sound to you?" Grif asked, grinning.

"Eagle Eye... I like it."

"Can I call you Eagle for short?" Doughnut thought it over, then nodded.

"Why not? Besides, you're right. It does sound better than 'Doughnut.' A bit more manly too," he said, honestly pleased with his new nick-name. And to think, Grif had been the one to suggest it. Maybe... he wasn't without friends after all.

"Hey! What sounds better than Doughnut?" Simmons asked, coming up as well.

"Eagle Eye," Doughnut replied. He could have sworn Simmons was grinning when he held out his hand and said,

"Welcome to the team, Eagle Eye."

"Thank you sir." Simmons shook his head.

"No no no. You can't keep calling me sir. Call me Simmons, like Grif and Sarge do. You're firmly part of the team, and that means a certain amount of disrespect among us. Got it, Eagle?" he said. Again, Doughnut was fairly sure Simmons was grinning.

"Got it... Simmons." Well what do ya know? He was grinning too. "Does this mean I can have the sniper rifle?"

/*/

The newly christened Eagle Eye was pouting. Why? Because Sarge refused to assign the sniper rifle to him. "Hey, don't pout so, Eagle Eyed Frank," Marley said, melting into view. Eagle sighed, barely even jumping.

"Hey, Marley," he muttered. Marley gave off a rather ruffled air.

"And here I thought my turning up and offering you a deal would make you happy," she said. Eagle didn't bother dignifying that with a response. "I'm offering you a place in Project Red, Eagle Eye. New weapons, new missions, new... armor." Eagle twitched. Was she really offering him a way out? "Of course, I wouldn't be able to take you on many missions. Sarge isn't necessarily lax when it comes to knowing what his men are up to after all. But, I can offer you training sessions ranging from thirty minutes to three hours pretty much every day. You can get that sniper rifle you wanted, burgundy armor, a reputation as an Agent... I could even arrange for you to meet my other Agents; Orange, Maroon, and Red." Eagle forced himself to be calm. She was offering him pretty much everything he wanted out of the military, aside from having to stay in Blood Gulch the majority of the time.

"The catch?" he asked, knowing there had to be _some_ form of strings attached to this offer.

"Catch?" Marley asked, sounding a bit confused. Eagle turned around. She hadn't moved, but he felt like she was a predator, stalking his every move. She made him wary.

"There's always a catch to these kinds of things," Eagle clarified. Marley sighed and rolled her shoulders.

"The catch is that you're a soldier and will occasionally be required to kill to complete a mission. This is unavoidable. It is also unavoidable that you will need to maintain a presence here, at your official posting. With your armor masked to mimic your current suit. I recommend dissociative personality syndrome. It seems to help the others deal. Perhaps one day it will no longer be needed, but until then... be prepared to have two persona; the real you, and the Blood Gulch mask," Marley remarked coolly. Eagle sighed, then held out a hand.

"This feels a bit like selling my soul, but I'm in," he said. Marley chuckled and shook his hand.

"It's really not that bad, Frank. Meet me behind the base at dawn. We have much to do, and so little time," she said, and then she was gone, melted back into the shadows of the base. Eagle shivered and hurried to his bunk. Marley gave him the creeps.

/*/

The next person Marley appeared to was Sarge. "So, a new team member to break in, huh?" she asked.

"Will this... ?" he began, mildly worried.

"No. It doesn't effect our missions at all. Just give them breaks and trust Simmons to take care of the base while you're gone," Marley interjected, knowing exactly what was on the man's mind. Sarge was a south Texan man whose close cropped hair had gone steel gray earlier than most due to the stress of his military career, and his face bore the marks of said career. He had taken off his helmet for this discussion and Marley could see the emotions plain in his emerald green eyes.

"I trust Simmons, it's Grif I have a problem with," he said, that south Texan drawl becoming just a little more pronounced. Marley sighed and took off her own helmet.

"Sarge... ya gotta loosen up with the guys a little. Let em know ya care. And Grif... honestly, all he seems to need is some motivation. There's nothing in this canyon that really motivates him aside from food. If he were on the battlefield, a real battlefield... you might just see a different soldier. But here... he can't reach... no. Can't _show_ his full potential. You might be surprised by Grif one day Sarge, and I can only hope you open your eyes to see what he becomes," she said earnestly to the man before engaging her cloaking unit once more and vanishing. Sarge sighed and looked out toward the hill that hid Grif's favorite napping spot. He could just see the top of that orange helmet vanishing under the grass.

"I know he's not showing us, showing me, what he can really do. I know he's not a total idiot. All the teasing, all the smack talk... that's just me trying to get him to prove me wrong! Are you telling me that it's having the opposite effect?" he asked the still air. Marley didn't respond and Sarge was left with his thoughts, staring after him most troublesome subordinate.

/*/

Marley found Simmons right where she thought he'd be. In his room, discarded helmet sitting on the desk to his left, fiddling with the teleporter she had given him not too long ago. Just like last time they'd had a post Blood Gulch Event conversation. "Still can't get it quite right?" she asked, not bothering to mask her voice, though she had to dodge a flying knife before the first word was fully out of her mouth. Pulling the still quivering weapon out of the wall, she quirked an eyebrow at the man who was now blushing furiously. Though, she kept a wary eye on the knife still in his grasp. "Jumpy much?" she asked.

"Don't sneak up on me like that Marley," Simmons squeaked, blushing deeper, before turning back to his work. Marley hummed and switcher her voice modulator back on.

"And having a female voice didn't really help, did it?" she asked, back to sounding like Agent York. Simmons snorted, still focusing on the tech in front of him.

"Need something?" he asked shortly, doing his best to ignore the woman behind him.

"Yeah, for you not to be so short with me," Marley said sharply, falling to sit cross legged in front of the techie. "Simmons... Rick... look at me. Please," she pleaded softly. Simmons sighed and looked up at the black helmet. Tex came to mind and he shivered. "Tex?" Marley asked kindly.

"It's the black armor," Simmons replied with a nod. Marley tilted her head, and then touched him on the shoulder. Simmons jerked a little in surprise, but her hand stayed where is was, maroon accents appearing on her armor.

"I can't change the shape of them, but the color? That's easy. I can have them take on the color of whatever my left hand touches. Hence, maroon. And ya know... I kinda like the maroon. Maybe later I'll do magenta, or burgundy. Possibly orange. But for now," she said, shrugging, "I think I'll stick with maroon." Simmons huffed and set the mostly completed teleporter to the side.

"So you wanted to talk, Marley?" he asked, sitting back against his bunk. Marley smiled and unmasked her voice.

"Yes. Just a few minutes, with my unfiltered voice. You still need work, Rick." He sighed, uncovered head falling forward in resignation. "Though, before we get started for real... get changed into night clothes. Sarge is giving the whole team the rest of the day off. The Blues won't be attacking any time soon. Not after Doughnut blew up Tex," Marley added. Simmons nodded and shooed her out. Laughing, she complied, leaning against the door until she heard his voice call out,

"I'm decent, you can come in now." Smiling, she walked in. Bare headed. Simmons immediately lit up with a brilliant blush. Marley's smile grew into a wild grin.

"Come now Rick. I told you unfiltered," she said, mirth dancing in her eyes. Simmons gulped.

"You... you're... ahHEM!" he stuttered nervously, face growing steadily redder.

"Please finish a sentence Rick. It makes things so much easier in the long run," Marley said, leaning against his wall with a smirk. Simmons cleared his throat and tried again.

"You're really pretty," he said softly, like an eighth grader talking to the popular girl in school. He almost immediately looked mortified, like that same junior high student had gotten told off by the class jock. Marley frowned.

"Why are you so... ashamed? That was a decent complement, Rick. It's nice being told that I'm pretty," she told him. Simmons cringed slightly and when he spoke, his voice was high and strained, only barely refraining from cracking and sending him into a stuttering mess.

"You.. you think so?" Marley sighed and nodded at the man.

"Yes. I do. Don't be so unsure all the time, Rick. You miss out on far too much that way," she said. Simmons shook his head at her and looked away, face heating rapidly.

"I... I don't think..."

"Rick, look at me," Marley admonished, drawing his lowered eyes back to her. It was clear he didn't want to, but he did. "What happened, Rick? Why do you sound like the geeky kid in the eighth grade when I'm unmasked, and a confident Science Officer when my helmet is on?"

"It's... not a happy memory," Simmons said, dragging a hand through his short red hair. Marley groaned and lightly tapped her head against the wall behind her.

"Of course it isn't or you wouldn't have such a problem talking to me about it!" she said, sitting back up and giving the man a mild glare. He began to sweat slightly and Marley sighed once again. "Please, just tell me. Did you get rejected? Bullied by the class jock? What?"

"All the above," the man muttered, face still flushed.

"What was her name?" Simmons squirmed, hand inching toward another unfinished project. Marley covered that hand with her own. "Tell me, please?" Simmons sighed and seemed to deflate a little.

"Jacqueline. Her name was Jacqueline, but she preferred Jackie. Or, I thought she did. Anyway, she was the most popular girl in school. Head Cheer Leader, Class President, Year Book Staff, top of the class. Shoe in for Homecoming Queen and pretty much every other award a girl can get without any of the 'lame' clubs. I was second best in robotics, computer club, and the chess team. Never the best, always second. I was second under her in class as well. I thought I might, _might_ , have a chance with her, so I asked her to Homecoming, Junior Year. She turned me down, in public, after leading me on for a whole day. With her boyfriend with his arm around her. He was the quarterback. I didn't stand a chance. After that, I tried to talk to girls in the chess club, but they seemed so much scarier after Jacqueline. Like... like I thought they would all try to lead me on only to crush me. Just like her. And it just... it just got worse, week by week. Girls are just... scary. You're really no exception. Just a different kind of scary," he revealed. Marley hummed, back in her position.

"So why did you join the army?" she asked. Simmons huffed, staring at his hands.

"I thought... I thought I'd be able to do something. Something I could feel proud of. Something that would make it so I could say to myself, 'you've faced worse things, worse people, how bad can she be?' Something that could give me the courage to face that fear. And then, I got stuck here. This is no worse than Jacqueline. In fact, it's tamer. Even with Sarge and Grif." Marley shook her head at the man.

"Ho boy, you got it bad buddy. Real bad. Alright. How about this," she said, getting up and setting her discarded helmet to play a slow song. "Would you dance with me, handsome?" she asked, holding out her arms in invitation. Simmons swallowed hard and Marley chuckled. "Come on, I'm not going to break your hand. Relax and dance with me. I'm in full armor! You can't hurt me," she encouraged. Finally, Simmons took her hand and placed one of his own at her waist before sweeping her away. Marley felt her eyes go wide as Simmons guided her around his room, eyes closed, in a darn near perfect Waltz. The music faded into nothing and left a ringing silence. Marley stared at the serene face of Simmons, usually so awkward and flushed when she saw it. Being so close, she could see that his eyelashes were a pale red, and that light dusting of freckles across his nose was darn cute. Honestly, she hadn't been lying when she called him handsome. Slowly, she felt herself leaning in. She stopped, a short way from his firm looking rose colored lips, then continued toward his pale cheek. Feeling her lips on his skin, Simmons opened his eyes with a gasp.

"You... you kissed me!" he gaped. Marley chuckled, still in his arms.

"You, sir, are a marvelous dancer. Miss Jacqueline doesn't know what she missed," she said, voice slightly husky. Simmons blushed redder than his hair, causing Marley to giggle a little. "Where did you learn how to Waltz?" she asked, stepping back. Simmons cleared his throat and determinedly looked away from her.

"My mother. She taught ballroom dance for many many years and insisted that no child of her's would be ignorant about dancing. The Waltz is the simplest, and the best fit for the song you played. I know five others." Marley fought against gaping at the man.

"Wow," she breathed, still staring at him. "Now I'm even more determined to break you out of this awkward stage. I have a feeling you'll make a woman _very_ pleased to snag you."

"Really?" Simmons asked, caught off guard by Marley's reaction to the revelation that he could dance, and dance well.

"Yeah, really," Marley insisted. Simmons looked away again,trying vainly to hide his embarrassment. Why did she always have to take their talks in this direction? Marley chuckled and looked out the small window Simmons had in his room. "Well, looks like you're off the hook for now. I still have a few things I want to get done here, so I'll be leaving you. Do try to get to bed at a reasonable time, Simmons. Dark bags under those pretty green eyes wouldn't be quite as attractive," she said, patting his cheek before slipping out of the room. Simmons let out a great huff of breath in her wake.

"She's a piece of work she is," he said, but as he reached for the teleporter once again, he stopped at the sight of his hand. Usually when thinking of girls, his hands would start to shake slightly. They weren't now. Frowning, but not necessarily displeased by this, Simmons left the teleporter and set the radio he'd fixed to play ballroom music. He spent the rest of the night practicing those half remembered dances his mother had taught him. As he was laying in his bed that night, he thought to himself how odd it was that five minutes and a complement to his dancing did more than all of Marley's 'sessions' to date. He fell asleep with a smile on his face and visions of himself and Marley dancing in his head. A man could dream after all.

/?/

A/N: And there's the end of Season One. I'll be doing a little on what the Reds get up to in the three months or so that pass before the beginning of Season Two, mostly Marley working with Simmons and Doughnut getting inducted into Project Red. Also, I'd like to ask, should I make Doc a part of Project Red? Just an idea.

A/N 2: Spelling, context, and a few other fiddely things have been fixed. Mostly spelling. 8/17/16


	14. Episode 13

Disclaimer: I only own Marly, a laptop, and whatever original missions I give Project Red. Oh and, that too.

A/N: In case there were some instances where I forgot to fix it, Marley's big ship, the one she lives on, is called The Ghost while the Pelican is call The Phantom. The Ghost stays in space. Because it is a spaceship.

 **Episode 13:** The Burgundy Sniper

Marley slipped off The Phantom in the dark gray of the predawn and made her way to the back of the Red Base. Twenty minutes later, Franklin Doughnut exited. Marley grinned and moved up behind him, quite as the phantasm her ship was named after. "How good of you to show up, Eagle Eye," she breathed. Eagle jumped, pulling out his pistol and aiming in the general direction of her voice. She chuckled darkly. "Careful there Private, people might start thinking you're crazy, firing that thing all willy nilly into the predawn," she said softly.

"You scared me, Agent Black," Eagle defended, slipping his gun back into the hip holster. "So, what are we doing?"

"Well, you're going to be getting that new armor I promised you, along with the sniper lessons. But first, you have to turn 180 degrees and walk until I say stop."

"Where are you taking me?" Eagle asked, though he did as he was told. Marley chuckled once more, though not as darkly as before.

"To my ship. That's where all the gear is stored, along with my good friend Flowdie. Don't mind the cyan on his armor, he just likes the color and won't hear a word against it," she answered.

"Oh, because that makes it so much better!" Eagle snarked. Marley looked behind her and judged that they were far enough away from base to decloak. "Man, that's never gonna get easier."

"HA! You say that now, Agent Burgundy, but I can almost guarantee you, by the end of three months, nothing my armor can do is gonna make you jump. Not the cloaking, the voice manipulation, the color shifting, or the hard-light illusion capabilities," Marley declared cheerily.

"Dude... what did you do to get that?" Eagle asked, shocked and falling into step slightly behind the woman. Marley laughed.

"I know a guy," she said, "Stop! Turn 98 degrees to the left." They turned left and walked in silence for a ways, before Marley jumped slightly. Eagle forced himself not to flinch in surprise when she landed on seemingly thin air. He carefully stepped onto the cloaked ramp and followed Marley into the ship. "Okay, now to take you to The Ghost. A Pelican isn't exactly conducive to privacy, or living," she said. A ten minute flight later and Eagle jumped slightly at the sound of the drop doors opening. Marley came bouncing out of the cockpit and down the ramp. "Flowdie! Bring up the burgundy armor would you darling?! We've got ourselves a sniper!" she called out excitedly. A Spartan in gray armor with cyan accents came walking around from the side of the ship, lugging a crate with him.

"How wonderful. OH MY WORD YOU'RE PINK!" he said, just barely keeping from dropping the crate.

"How astute there _Flowdie_ ," Eagle snarled. Flowdie shook his head and set the crate down, pushing it over with his foot.

"Just take the armor and make it quick. I can't take you seriously in that... that," he said, turning around and stalking off. "I'm gonna make us some coffee."

"Make that Earl Grey for me please!" Marley called after him before turning to Eagle and nodding encouragingly toward the crate. "Well go on!" Eagle sighed and opened the crate, his face spreading into a large smile as he saw the dark red armor nestled inside. He quickly divested himself of the horrid pink armor and strapped on the burgundy suit. It had gray on the shoulders, gloves, and a stripe down the middle of the helmet as well as the thighs. "Well, it certainly looks like it fits you well enough. Anything loose?" Marley asked, circling the Private. Eagle ran through a few forms, then nodded.

"Nope, everything fits just fine," he said. Marley nodded again, then said, morose,

"Say, 'standard mode.'"

"Standard mode? Wh... OH YOU TERRIBLE PERSON!" Eagle cried, seeing that his armor had mimicked his old suit. Marley cringed back and shuffled her feet.

"Well... you see... it wouldn't... there would be questions otherwise. I'm sorry Eagle, truly I am. But... I just... there is an up side," she said nervously. Eagle was still glaring at her from under his visor. "While your armor functions are restricted in standard mode, you can still patch through a direct line to my ship, as well as see The Phantom on your HUD. Also, when you say 'Agent mode,' it goes back to burgundy. Please don't kill me," Marley explained. Eagle growled.

"Agent mode," he spit out, relaxing slightly when the armor went back to burgundy, just as Marley had said. She let out a long, slow breath.

"Okay. Now for the fun part, Agent Burgundy. Sniper training! Pick a seat and I'll fly us to the shooting range. A ship is just a little too confined for a good sniper session," she said, bouncing deeper into the ship. Flowdie came back a moment later, saw the stiff soldier and lack of Marley, shook his head, and took the steaming mug in his hand to the front. He returned, shook his head at Eagle, and retrieved the other two mugs.

"Here," he said, holding one out, "you look like you could use a pick-me-up."

"Coffee won't help much, unless it's spiked," Eagle grumbled, but he drank the coffee anyway. "Thanks."

"Hey, don't mention it. Nothing matters more to me than the emotional well-being of my troops," Flowdie said with a shrug. Eagle huffed a laugh.

"Dude, that was so cheesy, it should be on a cat poster," he told the other man. Flowdie shrugged.

"Hey, it's the truth. So, you looking forward to your sniper training?" Eagle shrugged and leaned back with a sigh.

"I'm just glad I don't have to _always_ be in... _that_ armor," he told the older man. Flowdie laughed.

"Yeah, I can imagine," he said.

/*/

Sniper training with Marley and Flowdie kept Eagle until four hours past sunrise. The pair then took him back to Red Base, bantering like an old married couple the whole way. Then they reached Blood Gulch and Eagle was took to hand over his weapon.

"Do I have to?" Eagle asked, hugging his sniper rifle. Marley whimpered.

"Yes," she moaned. Eagle drooped his head, but put the rifle down and walked to the ramp. "I'll see you same time tomorrow, Agent Burgundy," Marley told the man, before she shoved him out, muttering the override code for his armor and turning it pink once more.

"That... was kind of mean," Flowdie pointed out. Marley growled at him and pushed her way back to the cockpit, locking the door behind her. He shook his head and watched as, muttering and kicking a rock ahead of him, Eagle went back to his every day life. "She means well, Frank. She just... knew you wouldn't be able to turn pink again on your own. Not yet, anyway," he muttered at the soldier, even though he knew the young man couldn't hear him.

/*/

Later that day, Grif noticed Eagle Eye was a bit down, so he jogged over. "Hey man, what's eating you?" he asked. Eagle shrugged and stayed staring out over the canyon. Grif sighed and spotted Simmons. Knowing the other man was better with emotions than he was, the orange Spartan called him over.

"What do you want Grif?" Simmons asked wearily.

"It's Eagle Eye. He's not acting... like himself. He's... more like... me. Could you... at least try to cheer him up? It's weird seeing him like this," Grif said, ignoring the other soldier's tone and looking worriedly over at the youngest member of Team Red. Simmons blinked, looked around his sort-of friend, then sighed.

"Yeah. I'll see what I can do," he said. Grif clapped a hand on his shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze.

"Thanks man. I owe you," Grif said, walking a little ways off to watch.

"Hey Eagle. You're really worrying Grif man. He actually asked me to help, while ignoring the fact I sounded like I wanted to shoot him. He never ignores a threat to his life. So come on, tell ol' Rick all about it huh?" Eagle froze for a moment, then blew out a long breath. Neither noticed Grif jerk around to stare at the pair. Specifically Simmons. ' _Could it be?_ '

"You're way too much like my brother," he said. Simmons chuckled.

"Well, since you let slip his name was Rick, that's kinda what I was aiming for. So, you gonna let me in on what's bothering you or not?" he told the other man. Eagle sighed and Grif relaxed. ' _He was just playing on the kid's memories. That's all... But what if it wasn't? Oh stop being so paranoid! And really, would it be so bad?_ '

"It's... it's complicated. I just need a little time, alright?" Eagle told the taller soldier. Simmons sighed, dropping his head to bump against Eagle's.

"How complicated?"

"All my hopes and dreams."

"That... can be pretty complicated. Alright, I won't pry, but if you're not doing better soon, I'm gonna start _aggressive corrections_ ," Simmons said, pulling out a knife.

"Where did you get that?!" Eagle asked. Simmons chuckled, putting it away.

"Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no lies," he said, turning. "A different kind of 'don't ask, don't tell.'" Eagle laughed, but Simmons could tell it was at least partly forced. "Eh, better than nothing. If you need anything, come get me," the maroon soldier said.

"Got any burgundy spray paint?" Eagle asked, half joking. Simmons shook his head.

"Sadly, no, I do not."

"Shame. Ah well, what is, is, right?" Eagle said. Simmons chuckled.

"Yeah," he said, walking back over to Grif, giving Eagle some space and quite.

/*/

Grif saw Simmons coming and sighed, leaning his head back a bit so he could see around another one of those odd protrusions that ringing the roof of the base. "So? How's he doing?" he asked, pushing all his suspicions and questions aside in the face of something a little more serious.. Simmons sighed and leaned against the protrusion next to Grif.

"I think the armor's getting to him, Grif. I wouldn't be overly concerned over it to be honest," Simmons said. Grif snorted and looked over at him.

"But Eagle acting like I usually do? It's not right Simmons."

"His sanity is well within acceptable deviations. It's when he starts plotting our deaths that we need to start worrying," the maroon soldier said. Grif sighed, shaking his head.

"You are a terrible psychologist Simmons. Don't try to psychoanalyze people. You'll only end up damaging their psyche," he said. Simmons chuckled.

"What's this? Is Dexter Grif actually caring about someone other than himself?" he asked in mock shock.

"Have you ever considered that, for all that I can't give a pep talk to save my life, I'm actually still human and I still have emotions? I care Simmons. I just can't express it all that well. You can blame my dear old dad for that," Grif said with a sigh. Simmons hummed sympathetically.

"Right. Sorry man."

"So, you think Eagle's going to make it out of this slump?"

"One way or another, he will. He might not be the same as he was before, but he'll make it out. We did after all," Simmons answered, looking off into the distance, the roar of bullets and the screams of wounded men echoing in his ears. Grif snorted.

"Neither of us were given pink armor, Simmons. I think our crisis were a good deal different from Eagle Eye's," he pointed out. Simmons sighed, though it sounded a little like he wanted to laugh.

"Yeah, but we still had a similar slump, a similar life changing event. So, what's to say Eagle won't make it through this?"

"I don't know what I'll do if he goes through a fundamental personality shift," Grif revealed, longing to run a hand through his hair. Sadly, his helmet prevented this action, so he had to settle for sighing heavily.

"Then... we just treat him the same as we always have," Simmons said with a shrug. Grif shot him a vaguely irritated look, the kind that says, 'well that's helpful, thanks' in the most sarcastic tone possible.

"But what if he goes from Straight Shot to Curve Ball?" he asked, holding back the sarcasm with heroic effort. Again, Simmons shrugged at the question.

"We treat him just the same." Grif's irritated 'gee thanks' look intensified.

"But it's going to mess with my head!" he spat out, putting his hands to the sides of his helmet. His friend was entirely unsympathetic.

"Oh boo hoo, poor baby Grif," Simmons teased.

"Jerk."

"Sap."

"Am not," Grif defended, though he could feel his face heating. So what if he wanted to protect the kid? There was nothing wrong with that.

"You're sure acting like one," Simmons countered, crossing his arms at the orange soldier. Grif could well imagine his smug smirk.

"He's... the brother I never had," Grid admitted, glad that his helmet hid just how bad a blush he had at that moment.

"I know Grif," Simmons sighed, looking over at the youngest red. "I have the same feeling."

/*/

A month and a half after making a deal with Marley, Agent Burgundy was taken on his first mission. He was to provide back up for Agent Maroon as he infiltrated a secret base to retrieve information on a mad scientist wanted for war crimes. Agent Maroon was to steal all files pertaining to the scientist's experiments, then upload a virus to make the base's computers effectively implode, rendering the base useless. Agent Burgundy was to be the spotter, picking off guards if they got too close and alerting Maroon if he was about to run into a patrol. "Steady on, Maroon. You're in the clear for now, but there's two heat signatures making their way to your position," Burgundy hissed. Maroon nodded, tapping his helmet in the agreed upon 'I read you' pattern before taking his pace up a bit. Soon, he was in the door. "Alright, now that you're in, it's going to be a bit more difficult for me to warn you if hostiles are coming. Be careful and stay on your toes," Burgundy whispered before the link went cold. Maroon let out a slightly shaky breath. He was essentially on his own now. Burgundy was to maintain radio silence once he'd entered the building, unless there was an emergency.

"Well, here goes," Maroon muttered as he crept further into the compound. Several times he stopped, thinking he heard the thump of heavy boots on metal flooring only to be urged on by a soft buzzing in his ear, the familiar sound of Burgundy sighing. Burgundy sighed often enough on the flight over, it didn't take long to learn the sound. Thirty minutes later, Maroon successfully reached the main frame. "Think you can give me ten minutes, Burgundy?" Maroon muttered. That buzzing sigh sounded in his ear once again and he could almost here the man thinking, 'If I get in trouble, I'm so blaming Maroon.'

"You're near the center of the building, Maroon. I'm ten yards from the catwalk. Get out, and I can give you twenty," Burgundy retorted lightly. Maroon smirked.

"Well, aren't you confident," he teased. Burgundy huffed softly.

"Just get those files and plant the virus. Your window's closing fast Maroon," he said. There was a soft clacking sound as the burgundy Agent adjusted his position. Maroon sighed and redoubled his efforts, now hearing a clock ticking down in his head. Eleven minutes later, Maroon stood and began creeping back the way he'd come. "Patrol!" Burgundy hissed. Maroon froze, spotted an open hatch, and dodged inside. He heard the soldiers pass and slipped back into the hallway. Heart pounding, Maroon sped up a little. Getting in was looking like the easy part. "You're clear Maroon, but not for long. Book it!" the sniper urged.

"What do you think I'm doing?" Maroon muttered, sliding around another corner. His heart was racing, blood was pounding in his ears, and he was still five hallways away from the door. The ticking in his head intensified and he hoped no-one else could hear the clanging that rang in his ears. There was the door! Five yards, three yards, twenty feet, ten, five... He was clear!

"Keep running, then take a flying leap off the base. Black's waiting for you," Burgundy told him.

"Running running running!" Maroon chanted, legs working furiously, carrying him closer and closer to the edge. A soft thump sounded behind him, but Maroon didn't dare look back. Burgundy must have taken one of the guards down from his eerie. That was one of the odd things about Burgundy, he didn't call his spot a nest or a perch, he called it an eerie. Maroon shook the random thought from his head and kept running, it wouldn't do to get distracted now.

"Come on home, Maroon! Jump!" Burgundy yelled, the sound of his rifle discharging rapidly, for a sniper rifle, coming over the radio. Maroon planted his foot on the railing and leapt for the open air. The Phantom swooped up and Flowdie caught him before he plowed into the wall.

"Graceful," the gray and cyan armored Spartan remarked.

"I'M ALIVE!" Maroon cheered, throwing his hands up and ignoring the dry, sarcastic tone Flowdie had used.

"Good going Maroon. Clear a space, I'm coming in now," Burgundy said, bursting the hacker's happy bubble. Flowdie helped Maroon to the side as Burgundy leapt through the fog, tucking into a perfect roll to come up on his feet, rifle at the ready. "Whoo! That was fun!" the sniper cheered, slinging his rifle back over his shoulder.

"Speak for yourself," Maroon groused. Burgundy chuckled and clapped a hand on the other man's shoulder.

"I thought you did rather well for yourself, Maroon. No need to be so harsh!" he said jovially. Maroon moaned, his head lolling back.

"Stop. You suck at pep talks," he drawled. Burgundy chuckled.

"Aw, that's mean. At least thank me for taking out those fifteen guys that were coming after you as you ran like a bat out of..." he said, feigning hurt.

"Frank! Stop antagonizing Rick! You have no idea the kind of havoc he could wreck upon your armor's systems," Marley called from the cock pit, cutting Burgundy off. Rick grinned at the suddenly nervous Frank.

"IT Wizards for the win, Sniper Boy," he said darkly.

"Rick! Stop picking on Frank! He can hit a Mongoose at fifty yards. A _moving_ Mongoose," Marley shouted again. Now it was Frank who was grinning at the nervous Rick.

"Snipers man, they'll get cha'!" he taunted.

"How about you just acknowledge that you're both awesome and be friends?" Flowdie suggested, sounding like an exasperated father who was one 'no I didn't/yes you did!' away from smacking his head against the wall. Rick and Frank sighed, then Rick smiled and held out a hand.

"Welcome to Project Red, Frank. Don't get too used to having other Agents with you. It's usually just Hippie, Black, and you," he said.

"Hippie?" Frank asked, taking the hand. He found it a little odd that he now belonged to two teams.

"Yeah. Flowdie. In the field, he's Agent Hippie," Rick answered. Frank gave Flowdie a look.

"Sorry man."

"Eh, I brought it on myself. No worries. Besides, me and Marley go way back, to before we were Hippie and Black."

"... Good for you." Frank said, a little unsure.

"Heh, don't mind him. Personally, I think he's sweet on Marley," Rick told the younger Agent. Frank laughed.

"Yeah, you're probably right." Conversation dried up after that and the flight back to Blood Gulch passed in silence.

/*/

"Alright! Rick, this is your stop!" Marley called. Rick saluted the Agents in the back and dropped out of the ship.

"Touch down, Maroon! See you next time Black!" Rick's voice crackled through the ship board speakers.

"Take care of yourself Rick. Training at 0700!" Marley replied.

"Right-O!" Rick said, then the speakers went dead.

"Okay! Time to drop you off Frank. And remember, Blood Gulch is the illusion, the place you can go to get away from the danger of Project Red," Marley said, wheeling the ship around. A few minutes later, the ship dipped down. "Hop off Frank, this is your stop."

"Got it," Frank said, hopping out. "Standard mode," the young man whispered as he fell through the air. His armor faded, the visor turned orange, and the gray accents turned to pink. When Eagle Eye landed, he called it in.

"Take care Frank. Training tomorrow at 1600 hours," Marley told him.

"Copy. Over and out," Eagle said, cutting off the connection.

"Eagle! There you are. Get over here! Sarge is going crazy!" Grif yelled from the roof. Eagle laughed and started running.

"Sure he is!" he called. It was good to be back. "Hey Sarge! What can I do for you?"

"Those Blues have been quite for far too long. It's time to launch a preemptive strike!" the rough voice of his psychotic Sargent yelled.

"Can I get that sniper rifle now?" Eagle Eye asked hopefully.

"No," Sarge immediately rebutted.

"Drat," Eagle bite out, snapping his fingers. He was really looking forward to that training session. There was only so much he could take from Sarge.

/*/

The next training session, Orange met up with Maroon. "So, hear about the new guy yet?" the Tech asked. Orange shook his head, checking over the practice weapons they were going to be using. "Well, next mission, you might just have some long range back up for once."

"No way, the rookie's a sniper?!" Orange exclaimed, leaving the weapons for something a little more interesting. Maroon nodded.

"A pretty good one too. Took out fifteen men in the space of thirty seconds. And for a sniper rifle, that's pretty impressive. And get this, he managed to jump from his perch, or eerie as he calls it, and land inside The Phantom, executing a perfect forward roll before bringing his rifle back up," he expounded. Orange shook his head while turning back to his weapons.

"Man, where does she find these guys?" he asked. Maroon snorted.

"Dude, you do realize both of us are included in that, right?" he asked. Orange turned and glared at Maroon, though the other soldier couldn't see it for the visor.

"My point still stands," he growled. Maroon held his hands up with a chuckle.

"Yeah yeah, Red and Burgundy are characters, I'll give you that. Still, kid knew how to handle his rifle. I may not talk with the other two as much as I do with you, but Burgundy at least knows how to banter," he said, amused.

"Oh, so it's the banter you enjoy, is it?" Orange asked lightly, smirking.

"Of course. What did you expect? The stimulating debates over astrophysics?" Maroon shot back. Orange chuckled and shook his head, picking up the assault rifle that had been resting against his bench. It had been loaded with paint rounds so as to leave a mark, but cause no damage, enabling them to fight without holding back. They also had at least one paint knife each, though Orange suspected Maroon had at least three on his person. That man _always_ had a knife on him somewhere. And some of them were nasty, pretty, but nasty!

"Okay okay, we're wasting time. Tell me while we're practicing, alright?" Orange said, settling in for a long fight. He wasn't the best, but Maroon was quick on his feet, which made him dangerous. And of course, there were the knives. ' _I wonder where he hides them all. There's only so much space on the human body man! And I don't see any pouches. And even those are limited!_ ' Orange mused.

"Alright, but I haven't a clue why you're so keen on a pounding!" Maroon quipped, pulling out two standard combat knives. The paint versions anyway, no point in slashing each other to bits in a practice match. Dex mentally shook himself, bringing his mind back to the training session at hand.

"So this Burgundy, he a decent fellow?" Orange asked, firing a round at Maroon's head. Maroon dodged and came in for a slash to the chest.

"Yeah, from what I can tell. Seemed to care if I made it out of the mission alive at least. The fifteen men I mentioned him pegging? They were after me when I was hightailing it out of the base," the knife wielder relaid, not missing a beat and flipping his knife around for another attack.

"Oh, well that's... nice!" Orange said, gritting his teeth as he dodged a rather viscous swipe at his head.

"Yeah," Maroon said, dropping to avoid Orange's next shot, "I think you'd like him!"

"It'll be a pleasant change to have a spotter," Orange said, opting to just pistol whip Maroon in the face to gain a bit of distance before pulling out his own knife. From there, all conversation dwindled to insults and shouts of pain. The weapons may have been of the non-lethal paint variety, but getting hit with a blunt object hurts. And Agents Orange and Maroon hit hard. True, Orange hit harder than Maroon, but Maroon knew _where_ to hit. A few minutes later and Orange had Maroon pinned, though both were breathing hard and covered in paint.

"Good match," Maroon wheezed, holding out his knife hilt first. Orange chuckled and hauled the other man to his feet.

"Not bad yourself. You been practicing behind my back?" he joked. Maroon laughed.

"Not too hard to with how infrequently we meet!" he shot back. Orange shrugged.

"Hey, a guy can joke can't he? Besides, you've really gotten better. And man are you good with those knives!" he said, rolling his shoulder. He was going to be bruised like no-body's business in the morning, that was for sure.

"Heh, thanks. That means a lot, coming from you. I'd say you're just below Red on my 'Agents I'd really hate to have mad at me' list," Maroon said, returning his practice knives. Orange laughed as he collected his discarded pistol.

"Yeah? And where does Black rank?" he asked, only half serious.

"Oh, she has a list all to herself."

"Yeah?"

"Agents I'm better off committing suicide before angering."

"Ha! Sounds about right," Orange laughed, putting the pistol on the rack. "Come on, lets get this armor cleaned," he said, slinging an arm around Maroon and dragging him off to the wash station. Marley was there to meet them.

"Well don't you boys look a mess?!" she asked cheerfully, taking in the marks. "And Dex would have been dead before he could pin Rick," she informed them. Orange snorted as he picked up a rag and started to rub Maroon's head.

"OI! I can clean my own armor thank you!" the indignant Maroon squawked.

"Oh relax Rick. Dex's doing you a favor, i's only polite to accept it. Besides, the helmet and back are the two hardest places to get," Marley said, tossing Maroon a rag of his own. Grinning beneath his helmet, Maroon began to savagely attack the paint splatters and lines that marked Orange's armor. Soon, the boys turned cleaning their armor into a wrestling match/game of tag. Marley couldn't help but laugh at them, happy to see them so happy and carefree, at least for a little while. It made her work seem worth while, seeing what she hoped to protect in others. Namely the citizens of Chorus who couldn't fight for themselves. But that was years away, years until her boys would be in a position to help. For now, they had to survive Blood Gulch.

/?/

A/N: So... there's Doughnut's initiation into Project Red. He's a sniper! Next we'll see some more of how Burgundy interacts with the rest of Project Red, as well as some of his skills.

A/N 2: And now I see how these chapters get better as they go. The early ones are still not all that great, and this one isn't exactly the greatest, but eh. I've edited this for continuity and spelling. 8/17/16


	15. Valentine Special

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB.

Warning! OOCness, sucky romance, and not a lot of continuity. That said... enjoy!

 **Valentine's Day Special:** Will You Be My Valentine?

It was a slow day aboard the Mother of Invention. Washington was _not_ playing with his rescued cat, because that would be against regulations.

Maine was knitting in his room, listening to Beethoven.

North and Wyoming were having a sniper match, South and CT placing bets on who would win.

York was in jeans and a t-shirt, carefully cradling a plastic box as he made his way to the eating Carolina. He reached her table and stood there, suddenly looking rather sheepish. Carolina looked up at his shuffling steps, quirking an eyebrow at his uncharacteristic uncertainty. He put the box on the table and lightly pushed it forward. "Chocolate's are good, strawberries are sweet, but neither compare to you. Together, they say, 'would you be my Valentine, Carolina?'" he said, giving her a slightly nervous smile. She narrowed her eyes and took the box. Opening it, she was confronted with chocolate dipped strawberries. She stared at the strawberries, then looked up at York, then back at the offering. She picked up one of the smaller treats, which were all rather large for strawberries. York watched nervously as she bit through the chocolate shell and into the sweet fruit beneath.

"Not bad, York," she said as she stood. York stared at her in shock and awe. She was smiling. Oh man she was smiling!

"You should smile more often," he found himself saying, even as his self preservation instincts were telling him to shut up and run. She chuckled and took another bite.

"For today... sure," she said, sashaying up to him. York's eyes went wide, staring at her strawberry stained lips. Was that a spot of chocolate in the corner of her mouth? "I'll be your Valentine York," Carolina whispered in his ear. One would be hard pressed to blame York for fainting at this point. Carolina chuckled as she took the box of chocolate dipped strawberries and vanished to her room. "My win. Florida owes me ten bucks."

/*/

If there was anything more terrifying then this, Leonard Church would eat his doctoral thesis. He stared at the selection of flowers, sweating over which would be the best for the soldier of his heart, Allison. Finally, he decided, none of these flowers would do. So, he went for the chocolate section. They didn't have anything that was suitable for his girlfriend. He sighed, rubbing a hand through his short brown hair. "What am I gonna do?" he wondered to himself, staring despondently at the chocolate isle. That was when a brain wave hit him. He'd _make_ her some chocolate! And maybe some steak. He knew he could cook some good steak. So, he found a recipe, gathered the ingredients, and went back home to attempt making chocolate for the one woman who held his heart. It took him all day, and almost every last ounce of his ingredients, but finally, _finally_ , he had the perfect chocolate for Allison. The steak would just have to wait for lunch the next day. He didn't have time to do it right. And everything had to be just right for Allison. He swallowed heavily, carefully placing the seven pieces of smooth, dark, hazelnut studded, chocolate in muffin cups and laying them inside a high sided box. He tied it shut with camouflage ribbon, tying the bow _just so_. Nodding, he said, "It's do or die time," and picked up his homemade Valentine before walking out the door.

/&/

"Leonard! I wasn't expecting you!" Allison said as she opened the door. Leonard carefully ignored the gun she was holding by her side. She was a soldier, they were expected to be a little paranoid.

"May I come in?" he asked, just a little ner... oh who was he kidding? He was working on auto-pilot while the rest of him was screaming that she was gonna kill him.

"Yeah sure, whatever," Allison said, tucking the gun back into the drawer she kept by the door for just that purpose. Leonard swallowed nervously and followed her into her home. "So, what brings you to my neck of the woods?" she asked. Leonard brought his box up, a slight blush coloring his cheeks.

"Would you be my Valentine, Allison?" he asked as he held it out. She went still for a moment, then took the box, tugging the bow loose, and opened it. She took a deep breath, her eye's drifting closed as the scent reached her. Then, the moment of truth. She picked up a piece of the chocolate, and bit in. A soft moan escaped as she enjoyed the slightly bitter sweetness of the chocolate. She bit the hazelnut chunk and her eyes flew open.

"Hazelnut chocolate?" she asked, shocked. "Leonard... where did you find this?" He shuffled slightly, his blush getting just a little deeper.

"I couldn't find anything good enough for you in the stores... so I made it," he said. She stifled the squeak that wanted to come out as she hastily set the box of _home made hazelnut chocolate_ down on the table and threw her arms around her nerd of a boyfriend.

"Best Valentine ever, Leonard. I love you," she said, then proceeded to kiss him soundly.

"I take that as a yes then, huh?" he asked with a slightly dazed smirk when she released him. She laughed and stuck a chunk of the chocolate in her mouth.

"Darn straight it is!" she said. Leonard smiled happily and the two spent the day, what little was left of it, comfortably together.

/*/

Dexter Grif hated Valentine's Day. He really did. With a mighty passion. Why? Because his little sister was just too pretty for her own good and their dead-beat dad wouldn't do his job of scaring off those lecherous boys so _he_ had to. It had only gotten worse when he had been 'drafted.' Every time February 14th rolled around, he became unbearable to be around. This year, however _..._ "Dex~! Let me out~!" Kai called, banging on the door to her brother's room. He growled, fingering his beloved Magnum.

"No! I will not let you get molested by all these mutton heads! This year, I'm doing my job _right_!" he snarled, glaring at the ground down below, as though daring Tucker to come over.

"I didn't think it was possible," Rick told Eagle Eye, the two of them hiding from Dex, "but he's actually _worse_."

"Wait wait wait... he's been like this before?" Eagle asked. Rick nodded.

"Every year, on February 14th, Dex would go mad, muttering about evil boys and poor Kai and his dead-beat dad never doing anything and he has to do everything and they'd better not touch her... I left it alone the first two years, but then I asked. Kai's his sister," the IT wizard explained. Eagle's eyes went wide as the importance of that name sunk in.

"And now she's here. In a canyon filled with guys. Who haven't seen a woman since Tex. Who _so_ doesn't count," the sniper said. Rick nodded, the par of them wincing as the sound of gunshots reverberated through the base. "Ho boy. Think Tucker will survive today?"

"No clue man. No clue," Rick said.

/&/

On the other side of the canyon, Tucker was pouting. He loved Valentine's Day! It was the perfect time to pick up chicks and show 'em you could be sensitive! But the only girl around was Kai, and it was well known, at least by now, that she came with an overprotective big brother. An overprotective big brother who was a highly trainer soldier with the title of Weapons Expert who could still take any Blue with his bare hands. So, no way was Kai going to be his Valentine. The nerd on Red Team had a better chance at even hanging out with her today than Tucker did. But _dang_ did he want to hang out with Kai today! Sure she was part of Blue Team, but... there had always been something special about February 14th. He sighed, looking out toward Red Base, where Dex had kidnapped Kai and was holding her captive. Tucker didn't even notice when his face twisted into a snarl. ' _Kai doesn't deserve being locked up! She's a free spirit! She's meant to be free and wild and in the sun and the waves and... ho boy. I've got it bad_ ,' Tucker thought, fist tightening until his knuckles went white. Church, being the selectively observant jerk that he was, sighed gustily.

"If you're that in love with her, just go ask Dex if you can take over for a while," he said from where he had been staring mournfully at Caboose's sandwich. Tucker jerked, then sighed and put on his helmet before striding out of the base. "About time," Church muttered, going back to bemoaning his inability to eat. It wasn't so much that he missed eating, it was that he missed being able to _taste_ things. Meanwhile, Tucker had reached Red Base. Seeing him from their hiding place, Rick and Eagle contacted him over the open radio channel.

"Whoa! What do you think you're doing?" Eagle asked, drawing a bead on him with his rifle, which was now loaded with lock down paint.

"Dex is worse this year than any previous year! If you get much closer, he's gonna kill you!" Rick warned. Tucker sighed.

"I know you can hear me Dex... if you have your helmet on anyway. Ah! Just listen! I like Kai. I like her a lot. More than any woman I've ever seen, even my mother. I love the way she laughs, the way her eyes sparkle. I love how innocent she is, right up to the point where she judo flips you and shoves a gun in your mouth. She's told me a little about her past, and I get it. Really, I do. I'm not going to hurt her, I'd never hurt her. I want to protect her just as much as you do!" he said. Rick whistled.

"Well. That was unexpected," he said.

"Very touching. So Valentine!" Eagle exclaimed happily. Rick groaned, smacking his forehead against the wall.

"You... are so... very... special, Eagle. So... very... _special_ ," he said. Eagle chuckled.

"You know you'd get bored without me!" he said, pounding the other man on the back.

"Doesn't mean I have to like it," Rick groused. Tucker was left fidgeting nervously outside the base, waiting for Dex's answer.

"Come on big bro! I like this one! He's nice to me!" he heard Kai whine and a smile tugged at his lips. She was so amazing... even if her brother was Dex.

"Well... I guess... as long as you keep that promise..." Dex's voice said, sounding rather begrudging. Even with that promising statement, Tucker didn't move. Did he dare to hope... ? "Alright. I'll allow you up. But if you're going to do this, you have to do it right!" Tucker grinned and walked inside Red Base, heading toward Dex's room. He stopped in front of the rather imposing man and presented his Valentine's offering. Scanning it with a gizmo he'd pulled from who-knows-where, Dex nodded and opened the door.

"Tucker!" Kai yelled happily. Tucker couldn't help but grin at her. Armor or no armor, inside or out, Kaikaina was one beautiful young woman.

"That's one mighty fine bodyguard you've got there," Tucker couldn't help but quip. She sighed, glaring at her brother, who didn't look sorry in the least. He was fudging smirking at her!

"He's always been like this," she whined, "even in grade school!" Tucker chuckled.

"Aw, don't be too hard on him. With a princess like you in his home, how could he not fill the role of Shining Knight?" he said. She scrunched up her face at him, causing him to laugh. "I know, I know. You don't need a protector," he said. She sighed and looked at him expectantly. He cleared his throat theatrically and knelt on one knee, holding up his box of chocolates. "I have battled through the Blue Ridicule and the Red Hazing, crossing the Canyon of Despair, just to seek your fine company. And so, I ask you this one question. Kaikaina Grif... would you be my Valentine?" Kai laughed, taking the chocolate and setting it aside before she tackled the kneeling Blue. Dex smirked and moved back, heading toward the rec room. Maybe Valentine's Day wasn't so bad after all, if Kai had another protector.

/*/

Butch Flowers was many things. He had so many titles, military and otherwise, he didn't know what to introduce himself as. Captain Flowers. Agent Florida. Agent Hippie. Butch. Flowdie. Flower Child of Indifference. Still. If there was one thing he knew he was, it was head over heels in love with the equally confusing woman he found himself living on a space ship with. Marlene White. She had almost as many names as him. Doctor. Captain. Agent Oregon. Agent Black. Marly. Crazy Chick. Still. He loved her, in all her wacky glory. And today was Valentine's Day. The day where couples exchanged chocolates and flowers and went on dates and watched chick flicks. But where would he find any of that here? He couldn't even make chocolate on this ship! And none of the flowers down in the canyon were suitable. Marly didn't own a TV, much less a chick flick. And where could they go for a date that Marly didn't already know about? She was the pilot! He sighed, then smirked and made his way toward the object of his affections. "Hey Marly," he said, sitting down beside her. She grunted.

"What do you want, Flowdie?" she asked flatly.

"To give you some Flowers," he answered. She blinked, turning to look at him. Her puzzled expression was so cute, it made Flowdie blush, just a little.

"Where did you get some flowers?" she asked. His smirk deepened and he was sure his eyes were filled with mischief.

"Ah, but the only Flowers worthy of you... is myself," he said, draping himself across her lap. She scoffed and dropped him to the floor, though he thought he saw a tiny smile. He counted it a win.

"You are so cheesy, Flowdie. But, credit where credit is due, you got me with that word play," she said. Flowdie shrugged.

"I couldn't get any decent chocolate, this canyon doesn't have any good flowers, and I _know_ you don't have any chick flicks. That was the best I could come up with," he said. She shook her head, a fond smile tugging at her lips.

"Well, in the spirit of the holiday... would you be my Valentine, ya big hippie?" she asked, pulling out a pair of Hersey's bars. Flowdie felt his eyes go wide.

"Marly... you are the most exceptional woman I've ever met... outside my mother of course," he said, taking one of the bars. Marly chuckled and ripped open her own chocolaty treat.

"High praise indeed," she said, sitting back down. Flowdie chuckled and sat beside her, watching the clouds go by. All in all, it wasn't a bad St. Valentine's Day at all.

/?/

A/N: So... OOCness is rampant, the romance is kinda flat, but I still had fun with this! Tucker/Kai and Flowdie/Marly were pretty hard to figure out, but I think I did fairly well by these pairings. And Leonard/Allison is still better than Twilight! I regret nothing!

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 **If there's a guy/girl pairing you want to read me attempt to write, let me know in the reviews and I'll write an omake for it. Happy Valentine's Day!**


	16. Episode 14

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB.

 **Episode 14:** Knives and Bullets

It had been a month and a half since Tex got blown up. A month and a half of training, a mission with the new sniper, and stories about how bad the new guy was at close combat from Marley and Flowdie. Now, he was going to have a knife match followed by a gun duel with Frank. It was going to be awesome! "Hey Frank. You ready for this?" Rick asked, twirling his matching paint knives. Frank shifted nervously.

"No," he said hollowly. Rick frowned. That wasn't right. The Frank he'd gone on that mission with had been a whole lot more confident. Sure he sighed a lot, as though asking 'why me,' but still!

"Come on. Why so... defeated? The match hasn't even started yet!" Rick asked. The burgundy Agent shrugged.

"I can't beat you. I know that. So, I'm done before the battle starts," he said, halfheartedly checking the weight of the pain knife.

"Can't you hear yourself?" Rick asked, staring at the younger man. Where had this loser's complex come from? Frank shrugged again.

"Maybe I just don't care." Rick groaned and attacked, causing the younger man to jump back with a yelp.

"I do. Now fight!" Rick growled. Frank was fairly nimble, but Rick was not only a natural with a knife, but he'd been training with his for nearly two years while Frank had neither talent nor extensive training. Round after round, Frank went down looking like an abstract painting until all seven rounds were done. Rick shook his head. "I don't know if it's your defeatist attitude, or if you just suck with a knife, but that was the worst match I've ever had," he said, putting his paint knives back on the rack.

"Yeah? Well it wasn't much better for me either!" Frank huffed, doing the same. Rick shook his head, checking the clip in his main pistol.

"You know, things would go a lot better for you if you didn't give up so easily," he said. "And here I actually believed Flowdie when he said that you just kept coming."

"Usually I do but... I don't know. It's different." Rick hummed, clicking a paint clip into his offhand pistol.

"Ready for this?" he asked the burgundy Agent. Frank nodded.

"As I'll ever be," he said sullenly, loading his own pistol with paint rounds. Rick laughed, sliding into a ready stance, both pistols held easily, familiarly, in his hands.

"Then lets get this show on the road!" he said, dashing to the side, firing paint rounds. He heard Frank shout and the thuds of his foot steps as he ran away from the incoming paint.

"I hate the army!" Frank yelled from somewhere to his left.

"This ain't the army kid! It's Project Red!" Rick shouted after him, running toward his voice.

"Still hate it!" Frank piped, still running. Rick grinned. Perhaps Frank wasn't as defeated as he thought.

"You get to play with the sniper rifle!" he countered, enjoying the banter.

"Yeah! And then get shot at! Repeatedly! No thank you!" Frank rejoined, obviously still running.

"Too late!" Rick called out, throwing himself around yet another rocky spire and 'lobbing' a paint round ahead of him. The sound of paint impacting on armor and a grunt of pain told Rick he'd landed a hit.

"Why is it always the right side?" he heard Frank mutter. He walked out from his cover and saw a blond head looking at the orange paint covering the right side of his helmet. Hearing the footsteps, Frank swiped at the paint on the visor, then put his helmet back on before spinning around to fire a round semi-blind. The more experienced Agent barely had to adjust his stance for the round to miss him. Still, Rick was frowning. Blond. A jagged scar on the back of his head. The right side. The young voice. He shook his head. It couldn't be. No. No way. Frank was... ' _Short for Franklin._ ' No. He couldn't think that. Burgundy was Burgundy and Eagle was Eagle. That was that. ' _Whatever helps you sleep at night,_ ' the annoying voice in his head jeered. Rick forcefully shoved it back in it's box. Now wasn't the time to be dealing with things like that.

/*/

Frank shook the impact to his helmet off, or tired to anyway. It was hard, when getting hit with that round reminded him of the grenade that almost when off stuck to his head. Had it really only been a month and a half since then? It felt like a lot longer. He staggered to his feet, only to find Rick staring at him. Frank froze for a moment. "What?" he asked sharply. Rick shook himself slightly and turned around.

"Reset," he said coolly, walking back to the start. Frank stared after the maroon Agent, wondering what was going through the brilliant head of his. Why had he been staring? How long had he been there? Had he seen his face? Was he wondering why he even agreed to this? Did he realize how much of a failure he really was? "Come on Frank! Show me what you got!" ' _I have nothing_.' "In five! Four! Three!" ' _Why did I ever agree to this?_ ' "Two! One!" ' _No more time!_ ' Rick used the rock pillars to great effect and Frank could only run and hide. Run and hide and pray he'd be able to shoot fast and accurately enough to take Rick down before he got shot in the head. Again.

"Not good not good not good!" he chanted, quietly but urgently, to himself, grabbing rock pillars and slinging around behind them, Rick's footsteps dogging his every move. It was pointless. Rick would beat him. He was only good long range. This kind of fight wasn't for him. He was going to lose. He was going to die. Run, dodge, roll, shoot, run, hide, paint to the side, hiss in pain, run, run, _run!_

"Come on Frank. I know you can do better." ' _No. I can't_.' Run, shoot, hide, run, run, run, orange in the face.

"Again? Why is it always the right side?!" Honestly. Why?

"I... actually wasn't aiming for the right side," Rick said, sounding a little perplexed.

"Oh, like that makes it so much better," Frank snapped. Rick laughed and helped the other man up, holding out a rag.

"You're doing better this match. I think close quarter fighting just isn't your thing. It's cool, long distance isn't as easy for me unless it's through a computer. Still, it'd be good if you could look after yourself without that sniper rifle," he said. Frank chuckled and wiped the paint off his armor, resetting for another round.

"I can. Just... not well," Frank protested. Rick chuckled, walking back to his starting point. Frank shook his head and headed to his own starting point. Time for round three.

/*/

Marley watched as her newest agent continued his match against Rick. It was like watching the match between York, Maine, Wyoming, and Tex. Only it was one on one and no live rounds ready to blow someone's eye out. "Marley... he's a sniper," Flowdie said behind her.

"So is York. So is Wyoming. Does that make them any less dangerous on the ground?" Marley countered. Flowdie shook his head.

"Marley... I still don't understand your insistence on these Sim. Soldiers being the best," he said. She sighed and sat down across from him.

"Butch. If I could show you what I saw, what has burned itself into my brain, I would. And maybe, once you'd seen it, you'd understand. But I can't. I can't and nothing I say is going to make sense because _you can't see it!_ " Marley said, her voice getting more intense with every word. Flowdie shook his head again.

"Tell me, Marlene. Tell me what you've seen that makes you think these guys could rival the Freelancers," he asked, crouching down in front of her seat. She closed her eyes, unable to withstand the gentleness Flowdie was infamous for.

"I saw them take out an army of Wyoming, blow up Washington, throw Maine off a cliff, defeat an army of Texas robots, and end a civil war. Now you tell me, does that not rival the Freelances?" Marley replied softly. Flowdie sighed.

"Yeah. That's... pretty impressive. Blew up Wash?" he asked, unable to resist.

"Yeah. He walked away from it, but they still hit him hard. Ran him over with a Warthog then blew up unstable chemicals in his face." Flowdie winced. That sounded painful. "Butch... I really want to share the extent of my visions with someone, but I just don't know how!" He sighed.

"I've got nothing but time, my dear. Please, tell on," he said, getting comfortable in his chair. Marley sighed.

"I've tried, Butch. So many times. But you've refused to believe they might be right," she said. Flowdie sighed again.

"You were right about the rookie nailing Tex with a grenade. I believe you. I have no choice but to believe you. So I say again, tell on my love," he said. And so, in a ship above a secret training ground with gun shots and screams of pain and frustration in the back ground, Marley began to tell her tale in earnest.

"It all started when the Director wanted more A.I for the Project..."

/*/

The paint round slammed into his side and sent him tumbling to the ground. "Dead! Man, the universe must hate me. Right side, every time!" Frank yelled. Rick chuckled and reached out to help the other agent up.

"Naw, you just leave it open too often. Well, that was the seventh round. Game's over," the tech said. Frank sighed, trudging off to the shelter and picking up a wet rag before getting to work rubbing the paint off his armor. "I think you actually tried those last three rounds. Finally decide I'm not the boogie man?" Frank laughed. Rick was an alright guy. Scary as all get out in a fight and the most brilliant man he'd met to date, but alright.

"Yeah man. No self respecting boogie man would hum old movie scores while hunting down his victim," Frank replied with an easy joking manner. Rick chuckled and thumped him on the back before grabbing a rag for himself and swiping at the orange smears on his armor.

"Still, you hit me. Quite a few times. I know you already know I'm called Rick, but hey. Thought that counts, right?" the man said, holding out a hand. Frank chuckled again and shook his hand.

"Yeah man. Thought that counts," he said. "So... think I could actually learn how to be a good soldier?" he asked.

"No," Rick said firmly, and Frank felt his heart drop. "I think you _are_ going to be a _great_ soldier. But first, you're going to need to get past that loser's complex of yours. But don't worry, we can help with that," Rick said happily. Frank huffed out a surprised laugh at Rick's vote of confidence.

"Oh man, don't scare me like that!" he said, pushing Rick. The man laughed and pushed back. Soon, the two were locked in a friendly wrestling match. Complete with punches and laughter. And that was how Marley found them, covered in dirt, laughing their heads off as they tried the strangle each other. She chuckled and leaned against the door of The Phantom.

"Looks like we have a pair of grapplers in the Crew!" she called, voice full of mirth. The two broke apart, now looking more brown than red, and stood at attention. "Good work out there boys. Maroon! I expect you to train Burgundy in proper knife handling and terrain usage when the two of you have overlapping training times. Burgundy! When you can last a full two minutes against Maroon in both areas I expect you to train him in the finer points of sniping. All my Agents have basic knowledge of how to use a sniper rifle, but you're the only one who really took to it. I'm counting on you to help them improve. Now wash that mud off your armor soldiers! Lift off in fifteen!" she said.

"Ma'am yes ma'am!" both soldiers replied with a salute before trotting off to get cleaned up. "So..." Frank began.

"Marley's the best CO I've ever had. She trained me, mentored me, helped me through a lot of my problems, sent me on missions that actually felt like they had worth. She was the first one to ever tell me she believed I could do great things," Rick said, wiping his armor down with a quick efficiency that was just a little scary but Frank found himself envying.

"But did she..." Frank began, only for Rick to cut him off again.

"She trained us all in a lot of things, but yes, sniping was one of them. I... did not progress from beginner. Even with a full year of training, I couldn't get past 'not going to shoot his own foot.'" Frank winced.

"Yikes man. I... yikes," he said. Rick chuckled.

"You may be the same way with a knife or a pistol. Don't worry too much about it though. We all have those areas where we hang up. The closest to 'techie' Dex gets is flying or driving. And Red is even worse. Though... somehow... he manages to build robots. Good ones. _Intelligent android_ good. I have no clue how such a non-tech guy can produce such high level robots, but there ya go," he said, sounding honestly belwildered. Frank had to laugh as well.

"Heh, alright, that's pretty weird. Now, I've got something I wanna ask you," he said, growing anxious.

"Shoot," Rick invited.

"What's Orange like?" Rick chuckled, slinging an arm around the younger soldier's shoulder.

"Orange? In a word... beast," he answered in all seriousness. Frank swallowed heavily, not looking forward to the joint practice session Marley had promised with each of the other Agents. There was no way Rick was joking. The emotion was too real. Frank nodded silently, thinking about how dead he was going to be.

"Okay. Just how bad is he? In a spar I mean," he prompted.

"He's practically unbeatable," Rick answered easily. "Not to mention he has a hair-pin trigger."

"Hair-pin trigger?" Frank asked, seriously anxious now.

"Oh yeah. The littlest thing can set him off. One time, he nearly ripped my arm off!"

"Uh... anything else? About his personality?"

"He's a bit of a show off, and arrogant about it, but the thing is, he's got the skills to back up just about anything he says," Rick said.

"Yikes. Sounds impossible to live with," Frank said, feeling a little green.

"He's a bit difficult, true, but knowing he's got my back is incredibly reassuring," Rick said.

"What about Red? What's he like?"

"Whatever you do, don't insult the shotgun in his presence. Don't grab the shotgun, don't breath on the shotgun, don't even look at the shotgun. And watch out for his right hook, it's nasty."

"Duly noted," Frank muttered, following the older Agent onto The Phantom.

"Don't worry too much, Frank. I'm sure they won't kill you."

"Oh, sure, because _that's_ incredibly reassuring!"

/*/

When Rick and Frank had been dropped off, Flowdie turned to Marley. "Ya know... I don't think things are going to happen quite like you said they were." Marley chuckled.

"That's what I'm counting on Flowdie. It's why I started Project Red ya know. To prepare them. Blue Team has more than enough drama to be getting on with, so I didn't bother with them but Red Team? They basically just got dragged along because you can't have Blue without Red... not when they're coming from Blood Gulch anyway. Besides, they become pretty good friends by the end of it," she said. Flowdie shook his head.

"When is Wash coming?"

"Not for at least another year Flowdie. They have to finish at Sidewinder, get blown up, and then dispersed for another... several months before Wash starts gathering the Blues to take down the Meta... and Freelancer," Marley answered. Flowdie nodded, then sighed.

"You're going to call in the Phantoms for some of it... right?" he asked.

"Only those I feel are up for it. Some of them have begun the process of crafting a new identity for themselves," she told him.

"Chorus is still..."

"We're gonna win that war Flowdie. We're just going to do it a little... differently."

"You are one scary lady, ya know that?" Marley just laughed and headed off for her own work out. "Yeah. She knows. Crazy woman."

/?/

A/N: Annn~d... that's it for the three month interlude! Sorry to those who may have wanted more, but I just... am drawing a total blank. Seriously. But, you get more clues that Frank/Eagle Eye/Burgundy/Doughnut is putting the pieces together faster than the others. Or maybe, just being really bad at denying the inconsistencies and similarities. Also, yet more Maine-like capabilities that Dex has commandeered. Seriously, this dude is taking my idea and running like a turbo charged stallion! I know they're progressing a little fast but... they have Marly and an army of Freelancers floating about space, ready and all too willing to train them. And Marly's been at it a while with the other three. Eagle's going really, _really_ fast but... eh. Anyway...

Let me know what you thought of this chapter in the lovely review box down below! Bitter und Danke!

Regenengel3

A/N 2: Yeah. I re-ordered the fights. Originally, this was going to be the last fight. I figured Orange vs Burgundy was better as a final because, well, Orange has more or less become the leader for Project Red. And the leader is always last. Also, edited for continuity and spelling. 8/17/16


	17. Episode 15

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB. But Marly's mine! No touchy.

 **Episode 15:** Burgundy Vs Red

A week after his 'match' with Agent Maroon, Frank found himself facing Agent Red. While Agent Orange was regarded as a one man army with mythical weapon capabilities(meaning he seemed to pull weapons from nowhere) Agent Red was regarded as a berserker. He favored his shotgun and his fists above any other weapon, even going so far as throwing other weapons aside in favor of his fists if his shotgun ran out of ammo. This... wasn't going to be a knife and pistol match like with Rick. This was going to be a straight up, full contact, sparring match. And it was going to hurt. A lot. "Heya, Agent Red. I'm Agent Burgundy," he said, holding out his hand. He sounded so calm, so confident. He didn't sound like himself. It was an odd feeling, not sounding like himself, sounding like some confident super solider when he knew, he _knew_ , he wasn't. He wasn't some sort of amazing warrior, he didn't even know if he passed as cannon fodder. He was just Franklin Delano Doughnut, high school drop out, run away, _failure_. How could he do this? _Why_ was he doing this? It made no sense!

"Heard 'bout ya from Maroon. Said he told ya ta call 'em 'Rick,'" Red said, and Frank was surprised to heard the strong southern accent in his voice. He wasn't sure why, but he had always thought that Red was from the north.

"Yes Sir, he did," he answered, unnecessarily. He wasn't sure why he did it, but it felt right. Red chuckled.

"Well, don't know if ya picked up on it, but that mean he likes ya. Seemed to think you had real promise kid. He was near'y _bounc'n_ when he said ya had the potential to beat out Orange as a sniper. Ne'er seen 'em so 'cited before," Red said, and Frank was sure the man behind that helmet was grinning at him.

"Now I understand why you're so fond of that shotgun of yours," he said. Why had he said that?! It really didn't fit the situation and now Agent Red was going to think he was crazy! And hadn't Rick told him not to mention the shotgun? Way to go Frank! Way to go. But Red just laughed.

"I t'ink I see w'at Rick was tal'in 'bout!" he said between his laughter. Frank was glad of the helmet as it hid his blush. That was two Agents who came out and said they liked him.

"I don't," he whispered, and now he sounded like himself. But it wasn't the comfort he thought it would be. It was crushing. Frustrating. _Painfully pathetic_. Would he still have a place in Project Red? Now that they could see how...

"An' that's what we like 'bout you kid. You're confident in the field but know you could always be better! Arrogance is dangerous son, don't let it claim ya," Red said before pacing out to the center of the sparring ring. "Now come on! I wanna see what 'cha got boy!" Frank swallowed heavily. Right into hand-to-hand then. Oh joy.

/*/

Sarge had to hand it to the new guy, he wasn't half bad. Not half good either, but hey, details. As he looked at the panting, sweating, moaning rookie, he came to the same conclusion Rick had. Burgundy had potential. Maybe not as a hand to hand fighter, but dagnabit was the kid a fighter! Hit after hit, with Sarge not holding back in the slightest, and still the kid kept coming. Sure he kept shouting phrases in Spanish and he kept getting the stuffing knocked out of him, but he _kept coming_. It meant quite a bit. He grinned behind the helmet. "Well kid, you ready for round three?" he asked. He was fairly sure Burgundy was glaring at him now. Oh well!

"Yeah, just... need a minute," the boy said and Sarge just grinned harder. Yep. Kid kept coming.

"Alright, but only a minute," the man replied, leaning against the fence. Burgundy sighed and rolled to the side, facing away from the older Agent, and took off his helmet. Sarge wasn't sure why, but all of the Red Agents didn't like others seeing their face. The back of the head wasn't so bad, and occasionally they'd catch a glimpse of someone that way, but the only one they felt completely comfortable taking their helmet's off around was Marley. This of course meant that Sarge was a bit surprised that Burgundy would so willingly take his helmet off like that, even if he was looking away. He was blond and kept his hair clipped short. There seemed to be a small scar on the back of his head. It was jagged and the blow that caused it had likely hurt like all get out. Sarge wasn't sure why he kept staring at that scar, but he did. It reminded him of someone, but who? Who did he know that was blond and had a scar like that on the back of his head?

"I'm ready, Red. Let's go," Burgundy said, popping his helmet back on and standing, though it was a little shaky. Sarge frowned. He liked the kid's spunk, but it looked like he was pushing himself a little hard.

"Last round kid," he decided. Burgundy jerked in surprise and Sarge couldn't help grinning. "Ya got spunk, and I like that, but ya won't be any good to anyone if ya push yerself too hard," he explained, dropping back into his combat stance. Burgundy shook himself slightly and mimicked the stance, altering it slightly to suit himself.

"Va," he said softly, then charged. Sarge shook his head. Head long charges weren't going to work for this kid, that was for sure. Five hits later, Burgundy was back on the ground, moaning.

"Kid, whoever taught you hand-to-hand short changed you something fierce!" Sarge said, looking down at the young soldier.

"No-one taught me," Burgundy growled. Sarge blinked. "It's a miracle I passed basic! I know it was. Maybe that's why I got shipped out to this planet of crazy!"

"Is that what you think got you here son?" Sarge asked, half wishing he could take his helmet off to give the kid the full brunt of his incredulous expression.

"Why else?" Burgundy asked, struggling to his feet.

"Well, perhaps because Marley saw something in you your training officers didn't! Maybe it's because you're better than you've been given credit for! No-one gets into Project Red without some sort of skill!" Sarge yelled.

"I'm a sniper sir! Long range. I'm done for if you drop me in a melee!" Burgundy declared, finally making it to his feet.

"That's what I'm gonna be workn' on changen', but I can't if you won't learn boy!" Sarge roared at him. Burgundy growled and began circling. "What ya think yer doing boy?! That was the last round! You lost! You lost every round! You're done soldier!"

"I'm not done!" Burgundy roared, leaping at Sarge, but not as he had the countless other times they'd fought. He went for the knees. Sarge jumped over the tackle, but got caught by the donkey kick Burgundy threw as he stood on his hands. "I'm not done!" he roared again, falling back to his feet and throwing a haymaker at Sarge. The more experienced soldier caught the blow, then dodged the jab, and took the right cross to the face. Burgundy held his head down and brought up his knee before allowing the force to drive Sarge back. The southerner shook his head, grinning.

"That! Is more like it soldier!" he said, circling around again. Burgundy was breathing heavy, his feet were shuffling, but the helmet stayed on target and Sarge could feel the boy's eyes on him. "Come on, you telling me that all that was a fluke?!" he taunted the young soldier. Burgundy growled lowly and kicked at the ground, moving like he was going to send a kick at Sarge's left side, but he spun instead and hit him with an elbow to the head. Or, tried to anyway. Sarge caught it and brought the younger man up, over, and down on his back before flipping him onto his chest and pinning him with a foot to the base of the skull and a firm grip on his wrist.

"Now," Burgundy panted, the strength leaving him, "I'm done. Sir," he said, going limp, his free hand thumping the ground twice. Sarge chuckled and helped him up.

"You're not bad, Burgundy. For a kid who never actually got taught hand to hand, you're actually pretty good," he told the moaning soldier. Burgundy huffed and reached out with his right hand.

"Frank," he said. Sarge grinned.

"Everyone just calls me Red," he answered, taking the young man's hand and giving it a firm shake. "Rick was impressed with you, and I'm liking your spunk, but now you've got to get Orange's stamp of approval." He felt Frank's hand begin to shake.

"But..." the young man stammered.

"Don't worry too much son. You've got everyone else on yer side. Orange ain't gonna kick ya out without a darn good reason. He'll likely just test yer skill with various weapons. Maybe test yer driving while he's at it," Sarge said, leading Frank toward The Phantom.

"Knew I should have taken my mother's advice," Frank said darkly. Sarge chuckled.

"Get that a lot kid, and every soldier I've ever heard use that line turn out to be the heroes that make their mamas proud," he said. Frank shook his head, but didn't say anything else.

/*/

He hurt. Everything hurt. Red was even more of a beast than Maroon. How often did Red beat Orange in hand to hand? Frank didn't want to know. The sole fact that he was now Red's newest punching bag kind of overshadowed those kinds of thoughts. "Raise and shine, dirtbags!" Sarge yelled. Frank growled.

"I'll 'raise and shine' you, ya evil troll," he snarled, though kept it quite so his intimidating CO wouldn't hear him. Sighing and shoving the fuming Agent to the side for the moment, Eagle rolled out of bed and got dressed in his light-ish red armor. "I'm up Sarge!" he called with an enthusiasm he didn't really feel, exiting his room with his helmet under his arm.

"The Blues seem to still be in a deep depression, and I'm still smart'n from when Grif hit me with the Warthog," Sarge said, causing Eagle to blink. Sarge did look a bit banged up, but it looked more like he went a round with Lopez. "So! We're doing target practice today!" Eagle sighed and got up to fetch himself some food. He had a feeling it was going to be a long day. Turned out, it wasn't that bad. All the training he'd done with Project Red paid off big time.

"Not bad Eagle Eye," Simmons said, hitting a target dead center. Eagle huffed a laugh.

"Coming from you, that's high praise," he said sarcastically. Simmons chuckled, hitting the fourth ring for the tenth time.

"This thing is a piece of junk!" the soldier growled, looking down at the pistol in his hand.

"Oh. That might be the one I hit Tex with," Grif said, missing his target by five inches. Simmons shook his head and turned the gun over in his hand. Shaking the weapon a few times, he shook his head again, twirled it, then unloaded a full clip into the bulls eye.

"Huh. Looks like I fixed it," Simmons said, turning away to reload. Grif shared a look with Eagle before shrugging and finally hitting the target. In the largest ring.

"Dude, you really can't shoot," Eagle said, hitting the second ring. Grif huffed.

"Shut up rookie. I'm better with a rifle," he said, switching out his clips with easy familiarity. Eagle hummed, noticing the swift, sure motion. Observation noted, he brought his pistol back up, firing once more at his target before pausing and asking,

"Ever hear of Project Red?" Grif jumped, nailing the target. Eagle quirked an eyebrow. Okay. That was odd.

"What of it?" the man asked gruffly. Eagle shrugged, turning back to the range.

"Which Agent's your favorite? Like, if you could meet one, which would you pick?" he asked. Grif hummed, taking careful aim at his target, which looked like Swiss cheese by that point. Badly made Swiss cheese, but Swiss cheese nonetheless.

"I'd have to say Orange. I'd like to ask how he manages to pull off a dorky codename like that," he said. Eagle chuckled, following suit and putting a nice new hole in the second ring.

"Yeah, it is kinda dorky, but ya know? Once I joined Basic, Agent Orange kinda took over for Master Chief, only in a bad way," Eagle said before putting another hole in the second ring. Grif hummed softly, then asked,

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he's a beast ya know? One man army, hundred-to-one odds, masters pretty much every weapon he puts his hand to. Master Chief was the role model, the guy all the other guys wanted to be. Agent Orange... he's the guy no-one wants to tick off, the guy who seems like he could take on Master Chief. And win. A loose cannon that no-one knows. Kinda like a myth, only people have managed to snag pictures. Only the military knows about him, and the other Agents, and that made him sort of a... a military boogie man so to speak. Like those stories your mom would tell you to make you behave. 'You will listen to orders or Agent Orange will come for you in the night!'"

"Huh. Those aren't the stories I heard about him," Grif said, once more hitting the paper target dead center. Eagle frowned.

"You're not very consistent, are you?" he asked, noting the wide spread of his shots. Grif shrugged.

"As long as I get close, I'm doing good, right?" the lazy soldier remarked with casual indifference, which was basically his default tone.

"Maybe, if you were hunting game. Soldiers wear armor for a reason, it protects the biggest vital regions. If you want to cause damage, you're going to need to hit the small spots, the weak points. Close won't cut it. How did you manage to get out of Basic?" Grif grinned at Eagle, the expression clear as the Hawaiian had forgone his helmet long ago.

"Same way you did, Private!" he said, then missed the target by five feet. Eagle shook his head.

"If you're not a marksman, do us all a favor, and don't pull the trigger when your eyes aren't on the prize," he said, walking back to the table where the guns were laid out. He put the pistol down and picked up an assault rifle. "So. Who'd be next on your list?"

"I hear they've got a new guy. A sniper. It'd be kinda cool to get a rookie's perspective of the group," Grif answered, taking the rifle off his back and putting the pistol he held in his thigh holster. Frank laughed as he sent a six bullet burst directly into his targets center mass.

"I'd bet you five bucks he'd describe them just like I have!" he said. Grif shook his head.

"You've only described Agent Orange," he said. Frank shrugged.

"Agent Maroon, the second oldest Agent in Project Red, in terms of appearance, is a knife wielding bad-ass of an IT guy and Agent Red's a hand-to-hand master who seems opposed to using any weapon other than his fists or his shotgun," he said. Grif laughed.

"You had more to say about Agent Orange than the other two. Any reason?"

"Project Red is a young story. Agent Orange has been around the longest, shown himself to the most people. I'm actually kinda surprised people call it Project Red, with Agent Orange being the poster boy. Make more sense to call it Project Orange," Frank said, firing another six bullet burst, though this one wasn't as perfect. He clicked his tongue. Was it the weapons, the canyon, or the conversation that caused him to miss? Because he knew he could aim. You don't get to be a sniper without being able to aim.

"So, what have you heard about the new guy?" Grif asked. Eagle shrugged.

"Haven't yet," he said, firing again. Grif chuckled.

"I hear he's a master sniper," he said, watching Eagle handle the rifle.

"Didn't he only go on one mission?" said soldier asked as he fired off another five bullet burst, all within the two smallest rings.

"You know more than you let on, Eagle," Grif said, turning to the Red Team rookie. "Best be careful. Wouldn't want something top secret to slip, would you?" he asked softly, though Eagle felt a shiver go down his back as Grif smirked and walked off, slinging the rifle back across his shoulders. ' _That man is dangerous_ ,' Frank's mind told him. ' _Stay clear_.' He shook his head. It was Grif. Even if he _was_ as dangerous as his subconscious was telling him, the orange soldier was on his team. ' _He's orange. Orange has haunted your nightmare's since the first day of Basic_.'

"He's Grif, not Agent Orange. He's not going to kill me. He wouldn't kill me even if he was Agent Orange," Eagle muttered to himself. ' _Watch him. Dangerous. Deadly. Watch him_.' "He's my teammate. Teammates don't kill teammates," Eagle told himself firmly. ' _Explain Caboose blowing up Church_.' "Caboose didn't know how to drive the tank. It was unintentional." ' _Keep telling yourself that, Doughnut_.'

"Ya know, talking to yourself is the first sign of madness," Simmons said, coming up beside him and fiddling with what looked like part of a nav system. "No, stay in the hole you stupid wire!" the maroon soldier growled at an errant length of copper. Eagle chuckled.

"I thought that was talking to inanimate objects," he said before heading back into the base. Simmons blinked and watched him before a smirk slowly slid across his face.

"Well played, Eagle Eye. Well played," he remarked to the empty air, then looked at the 'rookie's' target. He shook his head. "I really must be loosing it if I think even the rookie is part of the Project," he muttered.

"So, those concerns about Grif are still bugging you, huh?" Marley said, her voice echoing in his helmet as she made use of the link between it and The Ghost. Simmons chuckled wryly.

"Eavesdropping, Marley?" he asked quietly. Checking to make sure the shadows mostly hid him, he leaned against the base to talk further with his 'boss.'

"Spying. More or less the same thing. So, still seeing Dex in Grif's place?" she asked, a slight creaking sound telling Simmons she was sitting in an office chair and had likely tossed her legs over the arm.

"Yeah. And Eagle's... well. He's a better shot than any of us, and I know he wasn't that good a shot when he came to Blood Gulch. And Sarge looked more like he'd gone a round with someone then gotten run over by a Warthog. Sure Grif hit him, but he stopped before he did more than the initial impact. And you told me Red was having a match with Burgundy yesterday. The bruises were fresh. And Burgundy had similar wounds. What's really going on, Marley?" The woman sighed and Simmons could hear her chair creak again.

"You know I can't tell you, Rick. The illusion... it still means too much. There will come a time when all the secrets come falling down. Crashing even. But now... doesn't feel like the time, Rick. Live the dream, until it becomes a nightmare, then pick up your guns and fight until the sun comes back," Marley said. Rick snarled and threw a knife at the last unscarred target, hitting it dead center.

"Are you so sure?" he growled.

"Positive, Rick. Now come on. Just a little longer. Who knows? Someone might just pull the curtain down before I'm ready to raise it."

"You... love being beyond cryptic, don't you?"

"Sadly, yes. Now clean up. I think it's time for lunch," Marley replied before she cut the link. Rick shook his head.

"Madwoman," he muttered before he began to clean the guns. Grif came out and joined him after a moment, sitting beside him in silence as they worked. It was peaceful, something they didn't experience often. They reveled in it.

/?/

A/N: Okay, so it's a little short, but honestly? Without blowing the whole secret that Red Team was Project Red, which is quite honestly a really flimsy secret, I couldn't make it much longer. One last chapter and then Season Two begins. Yays! Let me know what you thought of this one in the box down below. Please and thank you!

Regenengel3

A/N 2: Minor edits to this one. It was decent, for a filler chapter. Spelling and continuity have been checked and maintained. Whoot. 8/17/16


	18. Episode 16

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB. I do own Marly. And Project Red, if not the Agents. All Ocs, and most altered personalities, have standing orders to wreck stories where they are used without permission. I do believe they would have all too much fun blowing them up. You've been warned.

 **Episode 16:** The Senior Agent and the Rookie

It had been two months, and still, things were just as boring as they had been before Eagle arrived. Which is to say, Blood Gulch was a snore fest and Marley worked her Agents hard on some far away training ground which was really just four miles to the west of the box canyon. Oh, and now Eagle was there, and acting more 'pink' by the day. It was really starting to wear on Grif. Sure he had agreed to continue treating Eagle the same way he would have otherwise, but it was just so... odd. A color change, a gay joke, and now... "So... you're Agent Orange?" What? Oh. Yeah. He was at a joint training session with the new guy. ' _Okay Dex, let's put on a show_ ,' he thought with a grin before wiping his face and getting into character.

"Who's ask'n?" Dex asked, turning around and thumping his favorite rifle on the palm of his off hand as he did so. It was the new guy, he was sure of it. Burgundy armor, gray accents on the helmet, shoulders, gloves, and thighs. Sniper rifle slung across his shoulder blades. Nervous as all... huh? Maroon hadn't mentioned him being the nervous type.

"A-ah! I'm... Burgundy. Agent Burgundy. Um, Ma... Black, told me to come and..."

"Relax kid, I'm not gonna shoot you," the Hawaiian said, putting the rifle across his back. Burgundy swallowed audibly, but appeared to calm down. Thank goodness. Dex wasn't sure what he would have done if the kid turned out to be a total nervous wreck.

"I was told we'd be running a shared practice, Sir!" Burgundy snapped out, coming to attention. Dex chuckled and picked up the lesser used sniper rifle.

"Well then, let's have ourselves a sniper match. You do know how those work, right?" he asked, running through the check. It was second nature by now for pretty much all the weapons Marley gave him access to. ' _If only my eighteen year old self could see me now. He'd probably deny first, shout later,_ ' Dex thought wryly.

"Yes Sir! We hide, spot, then announce the shot. First spot wins," Burgundy replied. Dex grinned under his helmet.

"Usually, yes. But since we have paint rounds..." he said leadingly.

"We hide, spot, shoot. First 'kill' wins," Burgundy amended. Dex chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder.

"You learn fast Rookie. Well done. Now, re-load with paint rounds and lets get going!" he said, already snapping the cartridge of paint rounds into the rifle and jogging off. This was going to be interesting!

/*/

He had been right. It was an interesting match. It took him ten minutes to find Burgundy, and then one to get shot. Luckily, it was to the shoulder, so he could continue, but it was already in Burgundy's favor. "Dang! Maroon wasn't kidding when he said this guy was good!" he muttered, eyes wracking the underbrush, trying to spot the dark armor. It was surprisingly difficult. Then his visor got covered in burgundy paint.

"I do believe that's my win, Agent Orange," Burgundy's voice said, crackling slightly in his helmet. Dex sighed, but there was a smile tugging at his lips.

"Sure is, Burgundy. But the next match will be mine," he said. Burgundy laughed softly.

"Sure it will, Orange. Sure it will," he said, sounding mildly smug. Clearly, he thought it would be another sniper round.

"Staffs," Dex remarked with an evil smirk.

"I do believe I hate you, Orange," Burgundy said after a moment, sounding rather... pouty. Dex grinned behind his helmet. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

/*/

As he walked over to the rack holding the staffs, Frank kept going over what was about to happen. He was about to fight Orange, _**the**_ _Agent Orange_ , with a staff. A six foot long length of wood. Against _Agent Orange_. Maroon had warned him about Orange. Soldiers whispered about him in Basic. Having a sniper match against him had been terrifying enough, but this? He was about to get his back side handed to him! "Hey rookie! Stop spacing out would ya?!" Orange called. Frank swallowed heavily.

"Yes sir!" he managed to call out, setting his rifle down and picking up a staff. He trotted over to where Orange was twirling the staff darn near effortlessly in his large hands. Frank swallowed nervously. How was he supposed to fight this guy?! He was built like a tank and handled the heavy rod like a child's toy!

"First, we bow," Orange said, dipping down in a graceful manner. Frank copied him in a jerky motion. "Then, we tap the tops of our staffs, followed by the bottoms," Orange said, angling the top of his staff toward Frank. The nervous man tapped the offered staff with his own, then reversed the angle and tapped the bottom of the staff. "And then... we fight," Orange said, voice calm and unruffled. Too calm for a man who had sounded like he was going to curse at him for winning the sniper round. Frank swallowed heavily one last time, for luck, and began to circle around Orange. With both soldiers dressed head to toe in armor, it was hard to know what expression the other wore, but Frank was one hundred percent sure that Orange was smirking at him.

"I am so going to regret this, I just know it," Frank muttered before charging for a jab to Orange's stomach. The senior Agent smoothly batted it aside before catching his opponent in the head with the butt of his staff.

"Always be aware of both ends of a pole weapon!" Orange shouted, though he didn't sound angry or even reproachful. Merely instructing. It both soothed and rankled. But Frank did try to keep a better eye on where the whole staff was, not just the obvious parts. He tried for a sweep, but Orange jumped, smacked him in the side, the leg, and the head in quick succession before hitting him under the chin and sending him flying through the air.

"Ow," he moaned, pulling himself to his feet. Orange was twirling his staff again, looking completely unconcerned for the poor idiot he was trouncing. And it made him so _irritated_! He gripped his staff a little harder and ran at the man once again. The air rang with the sound of wood clacking against wood, clanging against armor, and cries of pain as Orange continued to pound Frank into the ground.

"Is this really the best you have, Agent Burgundy?" Orange taunted, once again twirling the staff. But he was giving Frank time to get back on his feet. That was his mistake. Or... so Frank wanted to believe.

"Oh, I'll show you what I have!" he bellowed, swinging and stabbing and whirling with all his might, but it wasn't good enough. No matter what he did, Orange seemed to find it the easiest thing in the world to block him, then knock him around, then lay him out flat on his back. Frank winced as he slammed into the ground for what felt like the hundredth time in ten minutes, jarring the other bruises he'd accumulated from his match with Orange. Maroon hadn't been kidding when he said this guy was a beast. Sure Orange wasn't as good a sniper as he was, or at least, not as good at hiding, but every move he made, every step he took, every hit he landed, he did so with purpose. And telling purpose at that. "Man, you hit like a Warthog!" Frank moaned, rolling onto his chest. Orange just chuckled at him, the monster.

"Next up, hand to hand!" the man said, far too cheerfully. Frank moaned, pushing himself up.

"I hate you," he said. Orange just laughed and moved over to the rack were the staffs were kept. Moaning in pain, Frank followed, though he wasn't anywhere as graceful as Orange. It was odd. Frank had seen a lot of Vets in Basic, walking around inspecting the troops, but they all seemed... stiff. Oh they could dish it out no problem, but they all acted like they were the suits of armor they wore. None of them were as terrifying as Orange. He moved like the armor was nothing but a t-shirt and sweatpants. Each move was precise, in it's own way, but Orange just seemed to... flow. There was no tension, just purpose. Frank shook the thoughts from his head and put up his staff. Analyzing how the Agent moved wasn't really going to help him in the upcoming match. Even if his analysis was correct.

"Take five and grab some water," Orange said, plunking down on a bench. The action was so against his otherwise graceful movement, Frank had to blink. He shrugged and went to the other side of the shelter and got a drink of water before sitting down and just taking a breath. The next session was likely to be just as brutal.

/*/

Dex watched the rookie as he relaxed on the other side of the shelter. Maroon had been right about his skills. The kid wasn't bad, but the staff wasn't his weapon. To be honest, having a newbie that could beat him in a sniper match was comforting. He couldn't quite put it into words, but getting beat by someone other than Marley or Flowdie in a match, even if it was with a sniper rifle, felt like a very good thing. Rick was good, especially with a pistol or those knives of his, but Dex could beat him. He beat him four times out of seven, which was the usual limit on the number of rounds they were allowed before Marley dragged them apart. Red was pretty good too, but Dex could still beat him three times out of seven. Granted, Red left him with smarting bruises and a few cuts, even through the armor, but it wasn't the first round that had Red knocking him out. Still, even if Burgundy could only beat him with a sniper rifle, having a real sniper was comforting. Knowing said sniper could not only evade him but also land a face shot? That was better than he had hoped for. And he knew, Burgundy would only get better. He was looking forward to the unarmed match... and to seeing how this new Agent grew. "Here's hoping you have more skills than just a good eye," Dex muttered to himself as the five minutes ran out. He could hear Burgundy groan as the timer went off.

"Oh! I hate you Marley." Dex chuckled. He remembered those days. They honestly weren't that far behind him.

"Whining won't save you, boy!" he called to the younger soldier, already forcing himself to get up.

"No, but it sure makes me feel better!" the other groused. Dex grinned, shaking out his limbs. Oh, he was beginning to like this kid. Another thing Rick had been correct about. The kid knew how to banter... once he got over his nervousness at least.

"Just be sure you're focusing on the world around you. You never know when your opponent is going to strike," Dex instructed, stretching his neck and arms. He was pretty sure, if Burgundy wasn't wearing his helmet, he'd be glaring. Dex's grin just got wider. Yes, he liked this guy. He was pretty sure he'd be able to survive Project Red.

/*/

Blinking, a thought came to Frank. "Why are we only going one round each?" he asked. It was a legitimate question, and one he really wanted answered. Orange laughed.

"This isn't the real training, Rookie! This is for me to get a measure of your skills!" he said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Frank sighed, but got into a ready position.

"This is gonna hurt, isn't it?" he asked. Orange laughed like a mad man.

"Like a bad _nalu_ ," he said before he charged.

"¡ _No esta bien_!" Frank yelled, turning around the charging Agent and getting behind him. He swung at the back of the man's head, but his fist was caught and he was flipped over the man's shoulder and onto the ground, jarring his mighty collection of bruises once again. " _Masticar hierba_ ," he growled. Orange chuckled.

"Now why would I do that?" he asked, keeping pressure on Frank's wrist. The sniper whimpered as he thought he heard something pop and pain surged through his wrist and down his arm. Orange immediately shifted his grip and the pop was heard again before relief flooded through Frank. "Sorry. I didn't mean to dislocate your wrist. Is it good?" Orange said, letting go. Frank frowned and tested his wrist.

"Yeah, no thanks to you, _idiota_ ," he said, biting off his words. Orange shrugged.

"Whatever you say. We're done here," he said, helping the man up. "I'm Dex. Welcome to Project Red."

"Frank. Don't ever make me mad, _anaranjado_ _idiota_ ," Frank answered, taking the hand and giving it a firm shake. Dex chuckled.

"I think you'll fit right in, Frankie," he said before walking off. Frank shook his head. Now that... had been an odd first meeting. He ran after the man.

/*/

Dex heard Frank's pounding footsteps coming up behind him and smirked. A full five seconds. Must be a new record. "Why'd you end it?" Dex blinked. That hadn't been what he was expecting.

"You're bruised, battered, most likely bleeding, and I dislocated your wrist. Going any further would have injured you unnecessarily. This was a test, not a life-or-death deal," he explained.

"Oh. Right." Dex sighed and slung an arm around the newest Agent, earning a yelp from the startled young man.

"And I'm not the type to push my men too hard. Injured men mean angry men, which means trouble for me and the rest of the squad. Better to keep the team healthy and happy. Besides, as good as I am, I prefer not to hurt others," he said. Frank chuckled nervously and Dex groaned, leaning on the smaller man slightly. "You're not _still_ scared of me are you?" he asked, a hint of a whine in his voice.

"Well you're really intimidating! All throughout Basic I heard stories about Agent Orange and how he was basically a one man army who charged through a hundred-to-one odds and blew up bases then just dusted himself off, jumped in a Pelican, and flew off like nothing happened. And then I had that mission with Maroon, not to mention the joint practice, another well known name, and _he_ told me you were a beast and darn near unbeatable and how you had a hair-pin trigger and..." Frank rattled off, a little hysterical. ' _Ah. I see what's going on here,_ ' Dex thought with a sigh.

"Shush! Shush! Rick's a good guy, but prone to exaggeration. Did he tell you I nearly ripped his arm off?" Dex said, cutting the panicky rambling short. Frank swallowed audibly and Dex groaned to himself. "He lied. Or rather, exaggerated. I dislocated his shoulder. And I put it right back, just like with your wrist," he explained. Frank let out a relieved breath. "Now, what other stories did Rick tell you about me?" Dex asked, wanting to cover all his bases thoroughly. Rick could be a devious little son of a gun when he really wanted to be.

"That you're an arrogant show off who can actually back up his talk and that if I ever get you mad I might not live to regret it," Frank offered.

"Okay, I might be a little bit of a show off, but I'd like to think I'm not that arrogant. When you beat me in the sniper match, I was happy," Dex revealed. Frank stumbled.

"Really? Happy?" he asked, bewildered. Dex chuckled and rubbed the top of the burgundy helmet as though he were ruffling the younger Agent's hair.

"You bet 'cha! It's nice knowing there's someone better than me on the team. The day Rick can beat me in more than two rounds out of seven, I'll rejoice. And then work twice as hard to make sure I can still give him a challenge. Same with you Frank, though, I probably won't be able to fully out-snipe you. I'm more a soldier-of-all-weapons kinda guy. I'd say I've only really mastered staffs and mid range guns. Guns without knives attached anyway. That's my next goal, mastering at least one gun that has a blade attached," the orange agent said. "Say, if you ever want to get me a present, give me a Brute Shot. That's the one I'm _really_ looking forward to learning." Frank laughed at the dreamy tone his new teammate took on when thinking of the Brute Shot.

"You're a lot more likeable than I was expecting. One of those times I love being wrong," he said.

"Ah, to be glad of being wrong! Such a wonderful thing! Don't ever forget you can be wrong when fact doesn't make it one-hundred percent in your favor, and you'll do just fine," Dex told him, complete with Dramatic Finger of Wisdom.

"And the 'might not live to regret it' part? From my conversation with Maroon?" Frank asked, bringing them back to the main topic of their conversation. Dex turned completely around to face the younger Agent, perfectly at ease walking backwards.

" _That_... is a gross exaggeration. I wouldn't kill you. Hurt you really bad and have you moaning in the infirmary? Maybe, _but..._ I wouldn't kill you," he said with emphatic hand gestures.

"Oh, well, that makes me feel safe," Frank drawled sarcastically. Dex laughed, just imaging that the rookie was rolling his eyes at him in a fond, exasperated fashion.

"Sorry bruh! That's just the way it goes!"

"Okay, I gotta ask, what's with the surfer lingo?" Frank asked.

"Just part of the Hawaiian charm. Now, I do believe this is our ride," Dex told him, nodding to The Phantom. Marly stood on the ramp, grinning at the pair.

"Good work out there you two! I'm glad you're getting along so well! Need to see who I can safely pair you up with Frank," she said, handing both soldiers a cold smoothie before heading inside. The two shared a look.

"I don't feel comfortable taking my helmet off around others," Frank said. Dex felt a bit relieved.

"Neither do I. How bout this, we both look the other way as we drink."

"Any private rooms?"

"Dude, Marley and Flowdie already know what we look like, and they could kill either of us in a moment regardless of the armor. Just look away and trust I will too and drink your smoothie. Marley makes some of the best smoothies you'll ever taste," Dex said before stalking off and taking a seat. Frank shrugged and Dex turned away. When he heard the click-hiss of Frank's helmet coming off, he removed his own and eagerly took a drink of the smoothie in his hand, letting out small moan of pleasure as he did so. He hadn't been kidding. Marley made amazing smoothies. If he closed his eyes, he could almost picture he was back on the beaches of his native Hawaii.

/*/

The ship touched down and Frank hopped off, grudgingly switching back to Standard Mode. He turned and saluted The Phantom as it flew away before trudging back to the base. As he did, he thought back over the conversation he'd had with Orange. He felt like he had learned a little about the man behind the legend. And he had a feeling he could be friends with that man. "Welcome back, Buttercup!" shouted Sarge. Eagle sighed.

"What can I do for you, Sarge?" he asked.

"Aw, leave the rookie be for a mo Sarge! He just got back from patrol!" Grif called, jogging up from his nap spot. It baffled Eagle that, despite everyone knowing it was Grif's favorite spot to nap, it was always where they looked _last_ , like they were giving the man all the time he wanted.

"Grif! What did I tell you..."

"Weapons all clean and accounted for, Sir! We have three hundred grenades, five grappling hooks, and enough parts for three more Warthogs, Sir!" Grif replied easily. Eagle was fairly sure the man was smirking behind his helmet. The young man chuckled as he thought, ' _Oh right. That's why they don't push him too hard._ ' It was just one of those odd things about Blood Gulch and it's troops, like Simmons being able to reprogram a computer in under a minute and Sarge listening to Lopez... even though the robot refused to speak anything but Spanish around the man.

"Well then, aren't you just a sassy pants!" Sarge retorted and Eagle rolled his eyes.

"Sentry duty, Sarge?" he asked. The gruff man nodded and waved him along while Grif sent him a little wave.

"Hey Eagle, come to join me?" Simmons asked when the pink soldier arrived at the top of the base.

"Yeah. Grif got me out of a tongue lashing," Eagle replied, leaning against the base. Simmons chuckled over the soft sparking coming from the gizmo in his hands. "So... why are you always fiddling with broken mechanical stuff when you're the IT guy and not the robotics guy?"

"Well, I'm trying to learn about the mechanical side of things so I can be a _better_ IT guy. Besides, who's going to fix Lopez when he breaks? Sarge?" Simmons replied. Eagle inclined his head.

"An excellent point," he conceded. There was a loud 'BZZT!' sound and Simmons yelped, causing Eagle to snap his head back up to see what had happened. The thingamajig that had been resting in Simmons' lap was now a foot away and the maroon soldier was cradling his right hand, the glove smoking just a little. "Perhaps you should set that aside for a moment, treat that shock," Eagle suggested, eying the almost gently sparking pile of wires and plating warily. Simmons chuckled and pushed the mess to the side with a pole. Where he got a pole from was anyone's guess and to be honest, Eagle Eye didn't feel like questioning the Blood Gulch logic at the moment.

"I'll agree to setting this aside, but I can't leave my post. Grif's getting chewed out by Sarge, Sarge is chewing out Grif, and Lopez is in the garage muttering unpleasant sounding things in Spanish. No-one's in any position to cover for me," Simmons said as he moved forward to stand next to Eagle.

"Right," Eagle said, looking out over the canyon. Simmons' words seem so... sad, so melancholy inside his head. "You placate Sarge, you cook for us, you clean for us, you find Grif and make sure he's done his job. You look out for all of us... but who looks out for you?" Eagle mused aloud, causing Simmons to look at him in curiosity. "And that's the thing, isn't it? You're like the glue that holds us all together, but what would happen if that glue started to dissolve?"

"Eagle... you think too much," Simmons said, chuckling slightly. Eagle shook his head.

"Go. Make sure that shock didn't do some serious damage. I'll cover for you," he said, jerking his head toward the interior ramp.

"But..." Simmons halfheartedly protested.

"I got out of a lecture because Grif threw himself under the metaphorical bus. I figure I can get you out of one the same way. Now get!" Eagle said, pushing the older man lightly between the shoulder blades. Simmons chuckled and shook his head, but left the pink soldier to survey the canyon alone.

/*/

"So? How was your training session with Frank?" Rick asked the next time Dex saw him. The weapons expert shrugged.

"He was decent, I guess. Kid's got potential, I'll give him that, but right now the only thing he's got going for him is his stubbornness and skill with a sniper rifle," he told what amounted to his second best friend. Rick chuckled.

"Good to hear. When we had our first joint practice, the kid was a bit depressed." Dex shot him a look.

"Oh yeah, I wanted to ask you... why'd you tell the rookie horror stories about me huh? Kid was about ready to faint when I turned around to look at him." Rick chuckled nervously, noting that they'd be working with staffs that day. One of Dex's top weapons.

"My version of hazing?" he tried. Dex huffed, tossing the length of polished wood toward his opponent.

"Still, you didn't have to exaggerate the whole dislocated shoulder incident. Or the hair-pin trigger thing," he muttered. Rick caught the staff and took the grumblings with his usual good grace.

"Yeah yeah, I get it. I went a little far and I should have thrown in some Red horror stories. I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted. Now get into position and prepare to have some form of skill beaten into you," Dex replied, twirling his staff as a warm up. Rick moaned, but slid into his ready stance. A moment later and the usual pre-match ritual had been completed and once more the training ground rang with the sound of clacking wood and clanging metal.

/?/

A/N: Yeah... Grif's character just keeps getting more... Maine like. And yet, he's a lot like I picture York to be. GAH! Why can't I just write Grif?! And Eagle is getting all... I don't even know what to call it. But, he said what I've got to thinking about Simmons. He looks after them all, but who looks after him? Oh well. Hope you guys liked it! _Please leave a review on your way out!_

A/N 2: Edited for continuity and spelling. Also, an added scene between Dex and Rick. Enjoy. 8/17/16


	19. Episode 17

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB.

 **Episode 17:** Arrival of the Medic

Three months. Three months of begging, three months of pleading, three months of target practice with wimpy pistols. After _three solid months_... Eagle Eye got his wish. Sarge handed him a sniper rifle and said, "Snipe the blues." Eagle couldn't help grinning like a loon as he lovingly stroked the rifle he held in his hands.

"O~hoho yeah~! Now this! Is a gun!" he said, chambering a round and sending it straight through the bullseye painted oh so lovingly on cardboard. Fifty yards away. Without using the scope. He didn't care if he was showing off a little, but oh it felt good to have a sniper rifle in his hands again. Sure it wasn't as good as the one Marley was holding for him, but still.

"Nice shot. Now, do the same thing, only to the blues!" Sarge said. Eagle chuckled darkly, flipping the rifle onto his back for easy carrying and stalking back into the base in search of more ammo.

"Oh, no worries Sarge. I'll do my job," he said. Grif and Simmons shared a look before shrugging and preparing their own weapons, Grif purposefully leaving the extra ammo. No need to make it too hard on the Blues. Meanwhile, Eagle was chuckling evilly to himself as he packed his ammo, occasionally stroking the rifle on his back.

"Do try not to kill them, please?" Marley's voice crackled in his ear. Eagle sighed, but agreed.

"I really have no reason to, not with the information you've given me about this being a simulation," he said. "Shame I can't pelt them with paint," he muttered darkly. Marley laughed.

"Perhaps one day you may. And when that day comes, I hope you'll allow me to join in the fun!" she said. Eagle chuckled back, walking back to Sarge and the rest of Red Team, who were ready to move out.

"When the day comes when we can actually paint this canyon red, I wouldn't dream of leaving you out," he told the woman.

"Oh! And maybe the other members of Project Red could join us! Oh! The paint bath!" Marley gushed. Eagle had to hold back hysterical laughter at the mental images.

"Hey! What are you talking about? Don't drop me in the middle of a conversation like that Marley!" Rick's voice chimed in. Had Eagle been looking, he would have seen Simmons jump ever so slightly. As it was, Eagle didn't see Simmons' jump and smoothly integrated Rick into the conversation, along with Dex and Red.

"Me and Marley were just talking about my official assignment and how fun it would be to use the rather pathetic opposition as paint ball targets," the sniper said. Dex chuckled, surprising Frank.

"Now that _would_ be fun. I can see it now, the entire canyon painted red, Blues running for the caves in terror and me with a Brute Shot loaded with paint. Ah~! Such happy thoughts!"

"Dude, there is something wrong with you. Why not just get a paint thrower? You know, as opposed to a flame thrower?" Rick asked.

"I like the way you think Rick!" Red piped up. Frank sighed.

"You had to patch them in... didn't you?" he asked wryly. Marley laughed evilly for a moment before Flowdie's voice came through.

"Please, disregard the madwoman behind the speaker," he deadpanned.

"Lighten up Flowdie! This is the best conference call ever! Of all time! And you _know it!_ " Marley shouted. Flowdie sighed.

"You guys don't need to hear this, and without The Ghost you can't conference call, so I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut this short. Have fun kiddos!" he said, sounding remarkably like what Grif had told Eagle of the old Blue captain. Huh. Weird.

/*/

Dex couldn't help chuckling to himself, even long after their call had been cut off. A conversation, even one as short and nonsensical as that one had been, with his squad was just what the doctor ordered. Blood Gulch was getting more unbearable by the day! It was utterly maddening, being around people who didn't know him at all. Still, he had to admit, having mock battles(because calling them battles was an insult to battle. Just like calling the Blues soldiers was an insult to soldiers. Especially their newest member.) against the Blues was rather cathartic. They crested a hill and saw that there was yet _another_ new Blue. Only... he was purple. Dex thought he heard Eagle mutter 'Purple. Why does he get purple? That would be better than fricking _pink_!' But no. He wouldn't say that... would he? Grif mentally shrugged and watched as Eagle shot at the device in the purple guy's hand, then missed him by a slim margin when he turned around. "Nice shot Cupcake," Sarge complemented gruffly as the opposing team scattered.

"Thanks Sarge!" Eagle called back, already lining up for another shot. Simmons paused for a moment to let loose his catch phrase.

"Aw that's right! Suck it Blue!" Grif laughed as he popped up from his crouched position.

"Ye~ha! Sneak attack!" he called enthusiastically.

"Sit down you idiot! I can't see," Simmons complained as Grif had been positioned in front of him for some odd reason.

"Hike up your knickers fellas!" Sarge called, "Let's go get 'em!"

/*/

The absurity of Sarge's comment was so great, the peanut gallery in space just had to comment. "'Hike up your knickers?'" Flowdie questioned quietly. "Who even says that anymore? And since when did fellas wear _knickers?_ " Marley shook her head with a wry smile.

"Go with it," she told Flowdie, "just go with it."

"No. I refuse," the former Freelancer declared, crossing his arms and giving the screen in front of him a difante look. "The term 'hike up your knickers' should not be used in regular conversation, and most especially when referring to men. Even more so when those men are _friking space marines!_ "

"It's Sarge," Marley attempted to explain.

"Red."

"Three words for you Flowdie. Blood. Gulch. Madness."

"... It's sad when that constitutes as logic," Flowdie said with a sigh, his bowed head a sign of defeat.

"Welcome to Red vs Blue Flowdie," Marley said with a wry chuckle.

"I've been here for over a year!"

"Let's see how the Blues are reacting to this!"

"... Madwoman."

"You keep calling me that!"

"That's because you are. A madwoman that is."

"Oh look! Church is trying to give orders!"

"What?"

/*/

"Okay Tucker, I need you to get up there, help Caboose shore up the defense, establish a suppressing fire, and hold that position until further notice," Church rattled off. Tucker simply stared at him, uncomprehending.

"I didn't even know what half of that meant," the cyan soldier admitted.

"Just go over to Caboose's rock and fire your gun a bunch!" Church snapped, irritated.

"That rock?" Tucker asked incredulously as he turned to look at the rock Caboose was crouched behind, which was a good five feet from the rock he, Church, and Doc were behind. The five feet between said rocks was filled with flying bullets, which was turning the wall of their base into qusdo-swiss cheese. "Yeah, I don't think so," he told Church flatly. He liked living thank you very much.

"We do not have time to discuss this," Church said slowly. Tucker scoffed.

"Sure, no time for you to discuss it. You get to hang out here with Nancy No Bullets, shooting the breeze, meanwhile, I'm out there, running around, eating a machine-gun sandwich," he said, clearly taking issue with Church's plan. Church, however, saw no such problem.

"Tucker! We're going to be giving you covering fire!"

"Covering fire? Unless that mean's you're going to build a huge, bullet proof wall between me and them, I think you need to come up with a new plan. Preferably one that involves me keeping the same quantity of blood I have right now," Tucker said, rather dryly.

"No problem," Church said with a nod. "Oh wait wait, does the blood have to be in your body?" Tucker gave him a bland look behind his helmet. "Alright, you, Doc, get over there and help Caboose."

"My name isn't Doc. It's Defresne," the purple medic said, mildly irritable.

"Yeah. I can't pronounce that. So from now on, your name is Doc," Church declared.

"I'm not really comfortable with that. I'm not a doctor. I'm a medic," the man protested, though without much heat.

"What's the difference?" Tucker asked, looking toward Doc.

"Well, a doctor cures people while a medic just makes them more comfortable... while they die," Doc answered.

"Mental note: don't ever get shot," Tucker remarked dryly.

"It's settled then. You're name is now Doc," Church ploughed on.

"Okay, but I don't think it'll stick," the medic relented. Tucker snorted. This was Blood Gulch, if it was easier than the correct way, chances were that's the way everyone is going to be doing it.

"Oh, trust us, it'll stick," Tucker stated, mildly amused despite himself. He had to admit, Church had his moments. And Doc was rather amusing, even if he was a pain.

"Now get over to Caboose and help him hold that position!" Church insisted.

"I don't have a gun~. I'm a pacifist~," Doc reiterated, sounding for all the world like he believed Church was as dumb as a kindergartener. Tucker wasn't sure, but he had a feeling that if Church had been human, there would have been a vein pulsing right above his left eye while his right was about to develop a twitch.

"Well then just get over there and yell 'BANG BANG BANG!'" Yep. That was the voice of a man struggling to maintain even an illusion of calm. Poor Church, being stuck in Mad Gulch.

"Eh~ah I don't know. Even that sounds pretty aggressive," Doc whined, uncomfortable with the idea.

"Oh come on," Tucker moaned, just loud enough for them to hear. Was this guy for real? 'On loan to both armies,' 'conscientious objector,' 'pacifist.' What the heck was this guy doing in the army?! Even medic's had to be trained in the use of firearms didn't they?! Even medic's held a rank! Doctor's had agreements with their patients right? How could you heal the guy who's trying to kill the guy you just patched up?! It was madness! A little known fact about Lavernius Tucker; he held loyalty and honor in high regard. So, seeing what amounted to a lack of loyalty from this medic, really didn't endear him to the soldier.

"Besides, I'm not supposed to get involved unless someone gets hurt." Tucker quietly seethed. He had half a mind to shoot this guy, then go over and 'help' Caboose. Just to show him how things were done.

"Huh," Church said as he turned toward Caboose, "I see," he added, raising his gun. A single shot and a cry of pain. Tucker could only stare in shock. Church had shot Caboose. And _hit_! This... this was something completely out of the ordinary! Church _never_ hit! Not even with a sniper rifle! He could miss a target by a margin of ten inches even when it was only about a foot away! How, in the universe, had he made that shot?!

"Ow! My foot! My foot!" Caboose wailed as Tucker stared at his acting CO. Once he got past the whole ' _Church actually landed a hit_ ,' he was confronted by a much bigger issue. ' _Church shot his own team_.' How could he? Sure he complained about them and said he hated them, but to go so far as to shoot them? "Well~, looks like Caboose has hurt himself. Maybe you should get over there and help him Doc."

"Ya know, ya could'a just asked nicely," the medic said. Tucker was too busy staring at Church and wondering ' _how did he make that shot?_ ' and _'how could he shoot his own team?_ ' to point out that, they _had_ asked nicely.

/*/

"Alpha. That was cold. Stone cold," Flowdie whimpered. Marley patted him on the back.

"Defresne is a stubborn one. And Church isn't a people person. That was bound to happen," she informed the former Blue Captain.

"Yeah but... to shoot your own team..." said Flowdie, shaking his head.

"Is it any different than what Project Freelancer had us doing?" Marley asked quietly. Flowide took a moment to process that, then sighed.

"... Poor Caboose."

"Indeed. Poor Caboose. And it only gets worse I'm afraid."

"And... was he... jumping? While there was a hail of bullets raining down on his position?" To be honest, Marley was a little surprised it had taken that long for Flowdie to pick up on that.

"Yep~!"

"And he wasn't shooting back?"

"Nope~!"

"... Is he retarded or something?"

"Something." Flowdie gave her a dour look that had no affect on her whatsoever.

"That was truly enlightening," he drawled sarcastically. Whatever he was hoping to accomplish with that comment, it didn't happen. Marley simply swept him a courtly bow and replied,

"I live to please." Flowdie scoffed, crossing his arms at her flippant behavior. Had she always been like this? He couldn't remember.

"You live to drive others mad," he retorted. Marley chuckled, leaning back in her chair.

"You know you love it."

"Yeah. You may be a madwoman, but you're _my_ madwoman," Flowdie said, ending with a mildly possessive growl as he leaned in. Marley leaned a little further back, surprised by the man's forward behavior. Usually, the man was rather reserved with his affections, despite his ultra caring persona.

"I don't know if I should be insulted... or flattered," she finally managed to get out, relaxing ever so slightly. Flowdie smirked and leaned in just a little closer.

"How about 'irritated at being flattered despite yourself?'" he asked huskily, mouth brushing against her ear. Marley pushed back against him, putting distance between them.

"Truly, you have a dizzying intellect," she remarked dryly. Flowdie shrugged, undeterred by Marley's reaction.

"I try."

/*/

Simmons cursed as his gun clicked empty. "Give me some ammunition Grif," he said, taking out the spent clip. Grif jerked slightly.

"Me? I don't have any extra. I'm down to one bullet," he said. Simmons sighed. ' _What did you expect?_ ' Rick whispered in the back of his mind, almost fond.

"Wha-? How can that be? You're the one who carries all the extra rounds into battle!" Simmons asked of the lazy orange soldier. ' _Perhaps he finds this as pointless as we do, Simmons,_ ' Rick whispered, amused. Simmons refused to think he had split personality disorder, but it was looking more and more likely. He hoped he'd be able to give up this ruse soon. It was killing him!

"Wait! Since when?!" Grif asked, though refrained from raising his voice.

"Since the last staff meeting," Simmons stated. ' _Boring bunch of useless,_ ' Rick added.

"We actually talk about stuff in those things? I just fall asleep inside my helmet!" Grif exclaimed, admitting to ducking the meetings without actually ducking the meetings. ' _Gotta admit, as long as he doesn't snore, that's rather clever._ ' Simmons mentally told Rick to stuff it and focused on the main issue.

"Well. You missed your job assignment, and now we have no ammo," Simmons stated coolly. Grif didn't seem too bothered. In fact, he shrugged with a soft 'meh.'

"What's your job?" he asked, jerking his chin toward him. His voice conveyed his curiosity.

"Me? I'm the civil chairman."

"Me and trigger and Eagle are empty. We need some clips," Sarge said as he ran up.

"Hey Grif. You remember that one bullet you have left? I've thought of the perfect way you can use it," Simmons said, half way between cold anger and dark glee. Now, Grif looked a little apprehensive.

/*/

"Tense."

"Meh. Not really. But watch, we're going to be treated to a grand show of human stupidity."

"Wait... wasn't that what we were already enjoying?"

"The show must go on!"

/*/

Back with the Blues, which was a much more pleasant place at the moment, Doc was assessing the situation. "Okay, Caboose, where are you hit?" he asked the young man, who was still hopping slightly.

"Ow ow ow, my foot, my foot!" the blue soldier replied.

"The left one?" the hapless medic queried.

"Ah. Left. Let's see, that makes and L with this thumb..." Caboose said, clearly being unable to remember left from right.

"I'm just going to assume it's the bleeding one."

/*/

"Is this guy for real?"

"Flowdie, meet Doc, the worst medic I've ever known."

/*/

Back down in Blood Gulch, Doc was still trying to do his job. Keyword: trying. "Yeah. The red one," Caboose said, giving a quiet sound of pain and shock. "I can't believe Church shot me!"

"Oh don't even start Caboose!" Church called over from his rock. Doc turned at the shout, wondering if it was always like this on Blue team, and if Red Team would be any saner. Tucker, however, muttered his agreement of Caboose's comment under his breath. It wasn't a team kill, but it was almost as bad.

"Anything else?" Doc asked, sincerely hoping there wasn't. One gunshot wound was bad enough, he wasn't sure what he'd do if there were more.

"Uh wha-what?" Caboose asked. He might have been suffering from slight shock due to the bullet in his foot. Plus, he had a malicious A.I. in his head. That wasn't doing him any favors. Not that Doc knew that, but it bears mentioning. O'Malley would mess anyone up.

"You have a bullet wound in the foot. Is anything else wrong?" Doc asked in much the same manner one would address a child. Slow and deliberate. Though, in this case, Doc was also clearly doubting Caboose's intellectual prowess.

"Uh.. Oh I got one. Uh, well, sometimes, when I fall asleep at night, I think about my parent's having sex and I get really, really mad for some reason," Caboose said. Doc just stared at the private for a moment, neither saying anything. ' _I'm not touching that one with a ten foot pole,_ ' Doc thought before nodding.

"Okay, I'm just gonna start with the foot," he said.

"Okay," Caboose chirped back.

/*/

Marley couldn't help snickering at Flowdie's incredulous look. "Seriously? I... I... I have no words."

"Flowdie, meet Caboose," said Marley, motioning grandly to the view screen.

"Yeah... I was talking about _both_ of the idiots behind that rock."

"Oh. Yeah. That works too."

"I mean... My word. It's like... the greatest insult to the medical community," Flowdie continued, staring at the screen in dumbfounded shock. Marley nodded gravely.

"Yes. Yes it is. Oh! Just wait. It. Gets. Worse!" she said, mad glee edging her words. Flowdie turned away from the screen in exaggerated+

disgust.

"I can't watch. Or listen. I might just decide to shoot him for insulting you."

"Aw~! You really do care!" Marley cooed dramatically, placing clasped hands over her heart. Flowdie turned to her and said with all the seriousness he could muster,

"I've never stopped."

"Even after all these years?" she asked, eyes growing misty. Flowdie gently cupped the back of her head, gazing lovingly into her eyes.

"Always," he breathed, dropping a kiss on her cheek.

"YES! Finally, someone who will finish the quote!" Marley crowed, leaping backward and ignoring the kiss as well as the kisser, who was still kneeling on the floor in front of her. How Flowdie had gotten there so fast was anyone's guess.

"Wait... What?" he asked, blinking rapidly in shock.

"Moving on!" Marley declared, turning up the volume.

/*/

"Hey dude, why aren't the Reds firing?" Tucker asked Church. The cobalt soldier shrugged.

"I don't know. Maybe their out of ammo," he suggested.

"Hey Blues!" Sarge yelled, running into Tucker's view. "We're giving you a chance to surrender!"

"Surrender?" Church asked. Tucker shrugged. How was he supposed to know what went on in the minds of the opposite team? He barely understood how his own team thought!

/*/

"There's no way this is going to work," Grif scoffed, Dex adding, ' _not even the Blues are that dumb._ ' It was at moments like these where Grif and Dex were truly aware that they were the same person, and it was these moments that they treasured. It meant that the mind of Dexter Grif wasn't totally fractured.

"Put a cork in it, Fast Eddie. There's positively no way they know we're out of ammo," Sarge said confidently. Dex Grif sighed, mentally shaking his head. ' _Great. You jinxed it. Way to go Sarge. Way. To. Go,_ ' he thought before turning his attention toward the Blues.

/*/

"Yeah, they're definitely out of ammo," Church remarked with certainty. "What are your terms!?" he called to the Reds.

"Their what?" Tucker asked.

/*/

"Our what?" Dex Grif asked, truly puzzled. ' _When surrendering, isn't it the ones surrendering who offer the terms? And then both sides agree to the terms and conditions of the surrender? Isn't this more of a parley than a surrender? Don't these guys know how this works at all?_ '

"I can't believe this is actually working," Simmons muttered to his right. "See if you can get Lopez back Sarge."

"Oh yeah! Cause then he can help Simmons fix the Warthog!" Grif said.

"Oh no! I'm not helping," Simmons rebutted.

"What? But I thought..." Grif began, confused.

"Never, and I mean _never_ , get between an android and it's baby," Simmons stated grimly. Dex winced and rubbed his left bicep.

"Right. Scratch that. Lopez can fix the Warthog," he said. Simmons nodded.

"Oh oh, Sarge! Tell them we want the flag!" Eagle contributed. At first, Grif saw no problem with this, and neither did Simmons, so he agreed.

"Yeah! And some cake." What? He liked cake. Cake was good.

"Oh. Wait wait! Sarge! Just the cake!" Eagle said. Grif nodded ever so slightly. Eagle was his little brother. They were united by cake. And boredom. And a love of guns. But not like Sarge's love of guns. Grif thought he might just ask Simmons to shoot him if he got that bad. ' _Hum. Mental note: tell Simmons to shot me if I start singing my guns to sleep.'_

"Alright Blues! First off, we want your flag," Sarge began, the Simmons had a thought.

"Wait wait wait just a second. The last time we got the flag, that chick in the black armor showed up," he pointed out.

"To stay right where it is!" Sarge yelled, seeing the problem in their first idea. "Keep the flag! But we do want our mechanized droid guy back!" Dex and Rick, as well as Frank, winced at what their Sargent called Lopez.

"'Mechanized droid guy?!'" Dex whispered in horror.

"Does Sarge have a death wish or something?!" Rick whispered in equal horror.

"It would explain a few things," Frank muttered, proving he could hear them.

"Shush shush! He's talking again," Dex whispered back, still staring at Sarge in terror.

"You may know him as Senor el Roboto!"

"Wait... Lopez spoke English... right?" Grif asked Simmons.

"Yeah, expect for when he got mad. Then he started ranting in a Spanish monotone. Sarge got him that way practically just by existing," Eagle piped up. Grif and Simmons made small noises of understanding.

"So that's what you meant!" Grif said. Eagle chuckled.

"But of course! What did... ya know what? I don't want to know," he said, turning his attention back to Sarge and the Blues.

/*/

Tucker was chuckling to himself. The disloyal little jerk was in a bind. Oh happy day! "Well Church, what's it gonna be?" he asked. Church turned to him and said,

"Chingado! No way. I'm not giving back my body! I just got this thing!"

"And don't think you can keep his nu-OW!" the Red Sargent yelled. Tucker and Church turned to see the orange soldier waving his gun in an 'oops' motion. They could just imagine him saying something like, 'oops! Sorry Sarge, my finger slipped.' Still, they were a little glad he'd stopped the Sargent. It had sounded like he was going to make a rather inappropriate comment.

"Uh, um... He's not here anymore!" Church yelled back, deciding that ignoring the antics of the orange one, known as Grif and/or Dirtbag, was the best course of action. For the moment.

"Yeah! He was all like, 'Sayōnara' and then he just took off!" Tucker added.

"That's not Spanish you idiot," Church told him in an aside. "That's French."

/*/

"No Church. It's clearly Russian," Marley drawled, condescension practically dripping off her words. Flowdie fought down chuckles and managed to say,

"No~... it's Greek," with an impressive amount of seriousness, though the twinkle in his eyes and the huge grin on his face were clear indicators that he was joking.

"You're both wrong," Dex's voice cut in, startling Flowdie and causing Marley to stare at the console curiously. "It's most certainly Freelancese."

"No no," Rick countered. Marley jerked at the small 'eep!' and muffled thud as Flowdie jumped so hard he fell out of his chair. "It's Tuckerese."

"I say it's Japanese. But hey, what do I know?" Frank added. Marley sighed.

"Sarcasm, Frank," she explained in that age old tone of an exasperated big sister.

"Oh I know," the sniper said before Marley could go on "I just saw the conversation as ridiculous and decided to end the pointless debate. Besides, I do believe the 'leaders' are talking again."

/*/

"Hey Reds! How 'bout a medic?!" Church yelled. "Would you take a medic as a hostage?!"

"A hostage? But I'm supposed to go over there," Doc remarked, thoroughly confused by these strange soldiers. The Reds took a moment to deliberate. While they talked, Church turned to Doc and Caboose.

"Hey Doc, how's the patient?" he asked. Tucker blinked. Huh. Maybe he _did_ care.

"Doing well. He seems very alert and responsive," Doc answered.

"He's talking about Caboose... right?" Tucker asked softly of Church.

"No I mean his toe. How's the toe I shot?" Church asked Doc, instead of answering Tucker.

"What that thing? That fell off like half an hour ago," Doc answered, far too nonchalant for Tucker's liking. Unknown to the cyan Private, Marley was having the same feeling toward Doc's attitude. Flowdie was muttering about axes, toes, and curve vectors. Marley did _not_ want to know.

"Rest in peace pinky toe," Caboose said, terribly sad. "You shall be avenged," he added in a deep, dark voice. Doc sighed.

"Tell ya what. Go ahead and send me over. I really don't think I can be any more help," he said. ' _No duh,_ ' Tucker thought darkly, glaring at the medic from behind his visor. It was times like these he would have liked it if his visor could go clear like he'd heard ODST visors could. It would be so gratifying to see people quiver under his glare. He had been told it was a truly terrifying sight.

"Okay!" Church yelled to the Reds after a beat of silence. He had considered shooting the annoying man, but decided against it. He needed to be alive to torment the Reds after all. "We're going to send over our medic! Now what do we get?!"

"You?" the maroon one called. "You're surrendering! You don't get anything but humiliation and ridicule!"

"We've already got that! What else do you have?!" Tucker shot back. Church mentally groaned, though he couldn't really refute Tucker's claim.

"What do ya want?" Sarge asked.

"How about you admit the Red Team sucks?!" Church offered.

"What if we admit that one of us sucks?!" Sarge yelled. This went on for another two hours until finally, they came to an agreement.

/*/

"My word," Flowdie moaned, staring at the scene before him in a mix of horror and astonishment. Marley smirked, playing with a scalpel.

"Told ya~!" she sang out, truly amused at the sight.

"I mean... my _word!_ " Flowdie whimpered, falling to the floor with a ringing _THUD_. Marley chuckled like the evil woman that she was, shining steel knife twirling between her fingers like a miniature lightning bolt.

"Yep," she remarked, popping the 'p' for emphasis. Flowdie stood suddenly, slamming his hands onto the table and making the board jump slightly, though the magnetized games tiles remained perfectly in place.

"It has to be worth more than _that!_ " he declared, looking at the neatly tallied zero on his score card, right beside his word.

"Nope. Freelancer isn't worth any points. Sorry~!" Marley sang, already preparing to lay down her next word.

"GAH!" Flowdie exclaimed in frustration. "Now I know why no-one liked to play Scrabble with you!" Marley ignored this comment, laying down her next word and turning to check the screen. The live feed from Blood Gulch had been muted almost two hours ago when the Reds and Blues started arguing terms of surrender. Seeing Grif standing in front of the rest of the Reds, she called Flowdie's attention back to the main event.

"Oh hey! They're done!"

"Oh thank heavens! I don't think I could have stomached another loss," Flowdie said, throwing down his letters.

"Heh~! You really suck at Scrabble," Marley remarked, far too happily. Flowdie gave her a dark look.

"Drown in your tea," he muttered angrily, noticing her word had been 'project', worth eighteen points.

"... You got issues Flowdie," Marley remarked, mildly worried for her companion's mental state.

/*/

"Okay then!" Church called out, glad that _that_ whole thing was out of the way. "We agree to the terms? You first! And then we send over the medic!"

"Get on with it Grif!" Sarge urged in his typical gruff manner. Grif sighed. ' _Why does he hate me so much?_ ' Dex Grif wondered, but put it out of his mind and went on with his part in the 'surrender' (' _It's not a surrender!')_ with a sigh/moan.

"I would just like to let everyone know, that I suck," he yelled for the canyon to hear.

"And?!" Church prompted.

"And that I'm a girl," he forced himself to say, the Agent part of him already plotting painful, devious ways to get back at his teammates for this. Not to mention the Blues. He could hear Tucker's laughter and he knew Church wasn't unamused by his humiliation. _'A few close calls with my bullets, maybe a few punches, oh and why don't I throw in a few grenades while I'm at it,'_ the Agent mused, mentally rubbing his hands together like a Hollywood mad scientist.

"What else?"

"And I like ribbons in my hair... and I want to kiss all the boys."

"This my be the best surrender of all time," Sarge told Simmons in a rather wistful voice. Simmons, for his part, actually felt a little bad for Grif. This was rather humiliating, he had to admit. For his part, Grif's revenge plots toward Sarge shifted a little farther into the 'painful' category.

"Okay! Is that good enough!?" Simmons called to the Blues, hoping they'd let Grif off the hook now. Grif was far from being a girl... or liking ribbons, even in a girl's hair!

"Yeah!" Church yelled to them, and sent the medic their way.

"Man," Grif drawled as the medic ran up to him, "I _re~ally_ hope you're worth this."

"Can I ask you a question? Do they put something in the water here?" the medic asked. Seeing the perfect opportunity to mess with the 'prisoner,' Dex gave the only answer he could.

"Water? We ran out of water six months ago." Catching on, Rick, Red, and Frank decided to play along, should it be required of them. Hey, they had to get a laugh somehow right? And there's only so many times you can prank someone in the same base as you without risking your life along with your sanity, which was already at risk when you decided to play the first prank.

"No water? Then what do you drink?" the man asked, which in all fairness was a legitimate question. But this was Blood Gulch and one should never ask legitimate questions and expect a legitimate answer.

"Uh, ya know, ketchup, uh, soy sauce, gravy, the usual," Dex said.

"I only drink the blood of my enemies! And occasionally a strawberry yoohoo," Sarge said, running up to the pair.

/*/

The Stupid was so strong, it forced Flowdie to question it. "But..."

"Blood. Gulch. Madness," Marley preempted, holding a a finger for each word. Undeterred, Flowdie turned to her and continued to point out the utter absurdity of Sarge's statement.

"They have water!"

"Oh yeah. Male Madness. And possibly Army Madness. Or is it Boredom?" Marley corrected, turning away in the classical Thinking Pose as her mind ran away with her. Flowdie stared at her for a moment before he gave up.

"Ya know what... Okay. I can let it slide. This time."

"Oh! How magnanimous of you!" Marley drawled, dramatics back in full force. Flowdie rolled his eyes at her.

"Shut up."

/?/

A/N: And Season Two Begins! Hope you enjoyed this one, which is fairly unchanged and has a lot more Blue than the last few. Let me know what you thought in that lovely box down below!

A/N 2: Spelling, continuity, and coherence have been checked and updated. You're welcome. 8/18/16


	20. Episode 18

Disclaimer: I don't own Red vs Blue. Or Princess Bride. If you spot the reference, Grif won't steal your cookie.

 **Episode 18:** The Blues are Weird

It didn't take very long before the Reds, plus one rather disturbed medic, were back at their base. Doc wasn't sure if he believed the claims of Red Team that they'd run out of water _six months_ ago. His skepticism was mostly based on the grounds that the human body couldn't last six months without water, or at least juice... real juice, not that nasty yoohoo stuff. And if they were out of water, how come they weren't out of the rest of the stuff they'd listed? Anyway, if they were truly out of water, they would have died after three days. Give or take. It was hot in Blood Gulch, so likely less. And that wasn't the only thing that got Doc wondering about the honesty of the Team. Once they had arrived at Base, Sarge and the maroon one, Simmons, had told the orange one, Grif, to watch him and then promptly ignored the both of them to fuss with their jeep. Bored out of his mind, Doc had struck up a conversation, which had devolved into a rant against Sarge by Girf. This, inevitably, lead them back around to the events three months ago which resulted in Doc being sent to Blood Gulch. Between runaway tanks, evil ladies in black, and exploding jeeps, there was one story that really stood out. Mostly because it had Grif _really_ indignant. Sarge had been acting out of character, Simmons and Eagle Eye had been knocked out, and then after Sarge led their prisoner out of the base, he got hit in the head with a sniper round. Looking over the orange soldier's shoulder at the very much alive Sarge, Doc had to wonder if this guy was for real. "So then me and Simmons ran out to Sarge and pulled off his helmet. Turned out, he was only mostly dead. With mostly dead, they're still slightly alive. With all dead, well. There's only one thing to do. Go through their pockets and look for spare change. Anyway, Sarge was only mostly dead, so we, meaning _I_ , preformed a field surgery then gave him CPR and saved his life. Of course, when he came too, he praised Simmons. When the little weasel revealed that _I_ did all the work, Sarge immediately turned hostile and complained about the treatment. Who does that?!" Grif ranted, complete with wild hand motions. Yeah. The medic was _really_ starting to think these guys were delirious. ' _What's going on here? Bad juice? Too much salt? Not enough actual water? Heat stroke?_ '

"So he was shot in the head," Doc repeated, hoping he could somehow catch Grif in a lie. The alternative was too outlandish to believe.

"Right," Grif affirmed with a nod.

"And you gave him CPR for a bullet wound to the head," Doc said slowly. Sure bullets to the head hadn't been covered in the few courses he took to become a medic, but he was fairly sure that was because there really was no treatment for them. It was a bullet to the head!

"Well, I took the bullet out and stitched him up first, since it's better to do that when they're unconscious, on account of how much it hurts. _Then_ I gave him CPR," the orange soldier clarified with a nod. Again. Well. If it works...

"Yeah. I think that's a perfectly acceptable treatment," Doc said, nodding. ' _Can't beat 'em, join 'em_.'

"That's what I said!" Grif responded. The way he said it made Doc think that he was the first to agree with him. He wasn't sure how to take that. On one hand, it was indicative of physiological and emotional abuse, but on the other hand it made him feel important. Needed. He pushed that aside and focused on the fact that this guy had somehow brought his Sargent back from the brink by using an unusual method.

"Oh yeah. People often over look alternative methods of care. Like that Blue guy who was shot in the foot during the battle? All I did was rub his neck with some Aloe Vera. He was fine." Somehow, Doc had a feeling Grif was giving him a 'you're an idiot' look. It was amazing how much a silence and body language could convey.

"Yeah, I don't know about all _that_ ," Grif said, further supporting Doc's feeling that he thought the medic was an idiot, "I'm just glad Sarge is wrong."

"Grif!" said soldier yelled, causing the man in orange to turn. "You're supposed to be watching the prisoner! Not playing lookie-loo with him all day long!"

"Come on Sarge! He doesn't even have a _gun!_ " Grif complained. While this was true, Doc didn't see what that had to do with anything. He'd heard that there were people who could kill with their bare hands. Not that Doc himself could do that, or wanted to seeing as he was a pacifist, but still.

"Well! You two will be great friends then! He doesn't have a gun, and you didn't bring any ammo!" Simmons yelled angrily. Doc winced. Yikes, hurtful much? Why did everyone here not like Grif? He really wasn't all that bad. And he saved his Sargent's life! And praised Simmons for his technological prowess! So... why? Why hate this guy? He was likely the most sane out of the bunch! Wait. Was that why? Man, Blood Gulch was weird.

"Hey thanks, Suck Up! If I want to take tips from the guy who lost our _last_ prisoner, I'll be sure to ask you!" Grif shot back. Another wince. Well, one thing was for sure, Grif may get a lot of flack, but he sure gave as good as he got.

"Oh man that is a burn! Dude, you just got burned! Burn dude, burn," the guy in pink said, his tone lightly teasing. Huh. It seemed like Eagle Eye was pretty much the only one who didn't hate Grif.

"Oh shut up, your armor's pink," Simmons returned weakly. Doc quirked an unseen eyebrow. Was Eagle Eye the only one _not_ hated around here?

"Yeah? Well I didn't get burned by Grif!" the pink guy shot back, and Doc was fairly sure he was grinning at his teammate. Time for a social experiment.

"Uh hey guys?!" Doc decided to shout. The others turned to look at him. "I... I just want everyone to know that Grif and I aren't uh technically friends. Uh, we're just talking!" Grif had turned back around to him. Doc could almost feel the hurt look the soldier was giving him. "That's it," the medic added weakly. "Sorry man, but it's pretty obvious that you're really unpopular and if I'm gonna make any progress around here at all, I can't really be directly associated with you. I'm sure you understand," Doc told Grif. "It's only because no-one likes you." A moment passed before, "Stop staring at me." Somehow, Doc got the feeling he'd be regretting this little experiment of his.

"And you really think this guy is a threat?" Grif asked lowly, though even the other three members of Red Team heard him.

"Grif _did_ have a point about the gun thing," the pink guy said slowly.

"True, but you don't need a weapon to be dangerous," Simmons, pointed out. Grif sighed, shoulders hunching just a little.

"Yeah yeah... but he's a medic!"

"And that's supposed to mean... what exactly?" the pink guy asked. Grif moaned and trained his gun back on Doc.

"You have a point. Best keep a close eye on him. Medics make the worst enemies," he said, voice growing dark and fearsome toward the end. A shiver of fear went down Doc's back. This... was _not_ a man to cross.

/*/

While Doc was beginning to realize that something _truly_ strange was going on in Blood Gulch, Church and Tucker were trying to figure out how to use Lopez's body to fix their tank. So far, Church had made a lot of weird noises and found his time and temperature function while Tucker had found an odd switch in the most inappropriate place. Obviously, it had been the Sargent who assembled this android. And so began the toggling troubles of Blue Team. Marley was determinedly not listening while Flowdie was chuckling like mad at the antics of his former subordinates. "Man, this is so weird!" he said.

"It's Church and Tucker, Flowdie. What did you expect?" Marley asked, fiddling with what looked a lot like a lesson plan.

"Still. 'Wiggle your dongle?' Weirdest conversation ever. Of all time," Flowdie said with a grin. Marley blinked, then chuckled.

"You've been thinking about Wash lately, haven't you?" she asked, tone fondly teasing. Flowdie froze, then groaned and dropped his head forward to thump against the table he was sitting at.

"Gosh darn it! He's infected my brain with his silly phrase!" he moaned. Marley chuckled again, flicking through a tablet determinedly. Flowdie had a feeling she was using that tablet to monitor military and Freelance communications in an attempt to find out where she was needed.

"Me too Flowdie. I have to consciously stop myself from using it. All the time. It's maddening," the woman said, archiving a report on a Freelancer mission on a planet called Allderan. Flowdie nodded absently, still watching the Blues down below when something Church said caught his attention.

"Wait wait wait... why would Church hear something beeping?" he asked, honestly puzzled. Marley jerked slightly, eyes widening in surprise, but not shock.

"Ooh! This is the... ! Um. Sarge?" she said. Flowdie frowned. She knew exactly what it was, and she didn't want to tell him. Ugh, she _always_ did this! Even back in Freelancer! Why couldn't she let people in? Wait. Sarge. Oh no.

"... It's a remote for the Warthog... isn't it?" he asked, dreading the answer but still wanting to know if he was right.

"Right in one," Marley deadpanned. Flowdie shook his head.

"Man these guys are weird!" he remarked. Marley snorted, archiving another report.

"Been saying it for years," she said lightly, scanning another set of orders from the SPARTAN division of the military. Flowdie scoffed lightly, but fell silent and just watched the show play out below him. Sure Marley had told him the highlights, but hearing it from her and seeing it were two very different things.

/*/

"Are there any ideas on what to do with the prisoner?" Sarge asked Simmons and Eagle Eye, on the other side of the Warthog from said medic.

"Well, we have to get him away from Grif because, ya know, it's kinda... cruel and unusual ta have to talk ta him," Simmons said. Whether he was talking about talking to Grif or Doc, the other two didn't know. Eagle was leaning toward Doc while Sarge was leaning toward Grif. Honestly, the man's dislike of the often times lazy private was more than a little illogical. He really wasn't that bad a guy. He just had to have a good, legitimate reason to do anything. And a lot of Sarge's orders weren't good enough for him. Eagle could understand that. Still, Sarge had asked for ideas, and he really didn't like the pink... even if he did like his Agent armor. Still, as far as anyone else knew, he still wanted to get rid of his pink armor. And he did... but not like that. And he knew Sarge wouldn't go for what he was planning to suggest, so his Project Red armor was safe.

"How 'bout we make him trade armor with one of us?" he suggested. "That would show him." Rick dimly noticed that the Warthog behind Sarge was beeping. But why would it do that?

"Warthog online," the metal behemoth 'spoke.' Rick jumped back, bringing his rifle up as he did so. Sarge and Eagle did as well, Eagle letting out a quiet, 'it's gonna eat me!' "Homing beacon engaged."

"Sarge?! Did the car just talk?!" Rick asked. Behind his helmet, Sarge paled ever so slightly.

"Uh-oh," he muttered.

"Sa~rge~?" Dex called warily. "What did you do?!"

"I, uh, may have, um..." Sarge stammered caught off guard by the subtle tones of command in Grif's question.

"Okay. I think I got it. You built a remote control for the Warthog into Lopez," Rick said, making an astounding leap of logic, if it could be called that. Then again, this was Sarge they were talking about. Dex groaned.

"Yep. But there's no way anyone could have found out how to turn it on. I hid it in a place no-one would ever look!" Sarge admitted. Dex groaned louder.

"These are the _Blues_ we're talking about!" he pointed out. Sarge ignored him.

"Unless... Hey! Pretty in Pink!" Sarge called. Frank turned to his CO, glaring under his _not pink_ helmet. "Were you messing with my robot?" Dex and Rick had to blink at that. What the heck?

"What're you asking me for?!" Eagle asked, shocked and appalled.

"So someone else controls the Warthog right now? And the big gun attached to it?" Dex asked, mildly concerned. Rick still hadn't lowered his gun, though Dex noticed that he'd switched to a pistol at some point.

"Oh get a pair you bunch of Barbies," Sarge said, turning back to the Warthog and so missing the glances the three Privates behind him shared, "even if they figured out how to turn it on, they'd never know the set of code words to control it. Only me and my dairy know that."

"Couple of things there, Sarge," Dex said, settling into one of his favorite battle stances, "first off, I'm not a Barbie. Secondly, a dairy? Really? And third, unless you actually encrypted it, chances are they'll figure them out by accident... and possibly not even know they've done it!"

"Grif... I don't think Sarge is listening," Rick sighed. He felt for Dex, he did... Wait. Dex? He looked closer. Yep. That was the way Dex always stood during a lull in training, relaxed yet poised and ready to attack at a moment's notice. But no. It was a coincidence. It had to be. Rick refused to believe Grif and Dex were the same person!

"Of course he's not. He's Sarge," D... _Grif!_ said, shaking his head.

"Drive."

"Jumping Jehosaphat! They've cracked the code! Those durn wind talkers!" Sarge exclaimed as they scattered. Though, Doc didn't move. Dex considered firing on the Warthog, but by that point, it had already hit Doc, who somehow got flung into the air only to land in the driver's seat.

"Hey, he's taking the Warthog!" Eagle exclaimed, bringing his sniper rifle, which he had claimed and was _not_ going to give up, to bear on the runaway jeep.

"Help! This jeep is kidnapping me!" Doc screamed. Dex idly noted that he had a rather girly, whiny voice when he yelled. Frank decided to see what other tricks the Warthog would pull before he put a 'destroy everything in it's path' round through the engine block. Figuring it would add to his 'character,' Frank said,

"And now he's taunting us. This is just embarrassing."

"Hey Sarge, new rule," Simmons said, turning to their CO. "How about we just don't take any more prisoners? Because we seem to suck at it."

"Simmons? It... really wasn't your fault they rescued Tex. And... since when did Warthogs randomly decide to kidnap prisoners? And even if the Blues knew what they were doing, which I doubt, how would they know where Doc was standing in order to direct the Warthog to pick him up? Seems pretty far fetched to me," Grif said. Simmons smiled at him, once again telling himself that Dex and Grif were _not_ the same person. Cousins perhaps, but not the same person. He couldn't allow himself to believe that.

/*/

Back over at Blue Base, Church and Tucker had gotten Caboose in on their attempts to get the infernal beeping to stop. It was going about as well as expected. "Okay. I see a switch down here. It's not very big," Caboose said, false whispering the last sentence.

"Hey yeah, that's it. Flip it," Tucker urged, wanting to get this over and done with. Why was there a switch down there? Why not... higher? Or... on the leg? Or... why have an analog switch at all?

"Wait wait wait stop," Church said. In the distance, the Red Team Warthog came to a stop on a hill with a deep, robotic 'stop.' "Caboose? You do know how to operate a switch... right?" Church asked.

"Uh..." the regulation Blue soldier said. Tucker groaned, resting his head in his hands. Of course the only one they could get to mess around with the switch would be a total idiot who couldn't even operate it. No wonder this guy managed to blow up Church.

"All right, here's a full tutorial then," Church said, "The switch is pointed in one direction. Just turn it around so that it's pointed in the other direction." The Warthog, still unnoticed on a distant hilltop, 'said' 'turn around' and pointed itself back toward Red Base. A moment later there was a dull 'snick' and Caboose stilled.

"Oops! It broke itself," he said, childish tone at odds with how perfectly still he'd gotten, as though he knew exactly what breaking that switch could mean but didn't want to believe it.

"Ugh," Church said, rather irritated. Tucker honestly couldn't blame him, he was feeling rather irritated himself. And he wasn't the one whose switch just got broken.

/*/

Poor Doc, still in the driver's seat of the Warthog, let out a plaintive, "Oh man, what now?" as the runaway Warthog turned around.

"That does not look good," Dex remarked, seeing the Warthog was pointed back toward their base. "Nice kitty. Nice kitty." Frank decided, he'd have a better shot from on _top_ of the base, and so began to retreat toward the ramp.

/*/

"Okay, I see two wires down here. One's green, the other one's red," Tucker said, crouched down in front of Church once again.

"What about the blue one?" Caboose asked.

"That's your thumb, idiot," Tucker retorted.

"Come on guys, just grab whichever one goes to the switch and yank it out," Church _requested_.

"See, I can't tell which one goes over there," Tucker said slowly.

"So just yank them both," Church suggested.

"Church," Caboose began seriously, standing from his crouch in front of the cobalt soldier, "if we pick the wrong one, you could explode."

"I don't care," Church began, "look just follow the red one."

/*/

"Acquire, target, Red," the Warthog growled.

"Uh, Sarge, you... you may want to start running... now," Dex suggested, knowing that Sarge was the only 'red' in the area. ' _I am so glad my armor's orange_ ,' Dex thought. ' _Even if it means I have a dorky code name, I am so glad I'm orange._ ' Frank emerged on top of the base, while Rick and Dex moved back. No way were they getting caught in this!

"Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh, fudge pops," Sarge said, not moving.

/*/

Up in The Ghost, Flowdie blinked in surprise. "Did..." he asked, unable to finish his question of 'did he really just say 'fudge pops?'

"Yep," Marley said, popping the 'p.'

"'Fudge pops?'" Flowdie asked, incredulous.

"Uh-huh," Marley replied, smirking down at the Reds. Her companion still couldn't get over the oddity of it.

"Really?" he asked.

"Said so in the script," Marley said, smirk becoming a bit more devious as she did so.

"Wait... there's a script!?" Flowdie asked, backpedaling in shock.

"Yep. Didn't they give you one at the door to the studio?" Marley asked, turning toward him with a carefully crafted 'innocent confusion' facade. It would have been perfect... if she could have controlled the amusement dancing in her eyes. Luckily for her joke, Flowdie was too confused to notice that she really just wanted to burst out laughing at him.

"No! Wait. Studio?" the bamboozled man asked.

"Uh-huh," Marley said slowly, nodding. By this point, Flowdie had calmed down enough to notice the hidden amusement in Marley's eyes and huffed.

"I'm in love with a mad woman," he muttered morosely after a moment.

"No you're not," Marley countered, shaking her head at him. Flowdie decided, it was his turn to smirk and be a smart alec.

"Right. I'm in love with a rouge Freelancer," he said, 'correcting' himself. Marley gaped at him, trying to from a proper response.

"N...! Fine. Whatever. Blues, on a base, doing weird stuff... Roll camera!" was all she managed to come up with. Still, it seemed to do the job.

"... We're not on set," Flowdie remarked.

"No. We're _behind the scenes,_ " Marley countered smoothly, crossing her arms and looking at him like she thought he was behind the times.

"No I mean, we're not in a show," Flowdie said, trying to bring her back to reality... such as it was.

"No. They are, we aren't. That's what _behind the scenes_ means, Flowdie," Marley 'explained,' though she looked rather annoyed.

"... I give up," Flowdie sighed, throwing up his arms in defeat. Marley grinned.

"VICTORY!" Flowdie ignored her dorky victory dance with all the patience and experience of an ex-Blood Gulcher. Which was to say, to him, _there was no dancing Marley waving pom-poms and chanting_.

/*/

While Flowdie and Marley were having their... conversation... the Warthog had attacked Sarge, ramming him against the wall of his own base. And still, Frank held off blowing the engine block. Why? Not even he could tell you. "Oh! I'm pinned!" Sarge exclaimed rather unnecessarily.

"Way to be Captain Obvious," Dex snarked, using the helmet to helmet radio to be clearly heard. Which was needed, seeing as he was nearly twenty feet away. Yeah, no way was he getting anywhere near _that_ can of Sarge.

"Eliminate Red target," the Warthog growled, its gun repositioning to aim at the pinned Sarge.

"You're gonna kill him!" Grif yelled to Doc, who couldn't reply out of shock. And who couldn't stop the gun even if he wanted to. Crazy Sargent with his crazy remote controls in his crazy robot!

"What a way to go, killed by my own mechanical creations," lamented Sarge. That was when Frank put a 'destroy everything in it's path' bullet through the engine block, and another through the battery for good measure. Finally. The jeep went dead immediately, though it still held Sarge pinned to the base.

"Nice shot," Rick remarked, approaching. Frank huffed, shouldering his rifle.

"I would have rather _not_ 'kill' the thing. If we ever get Lopez back, he's going to be ticked!" he remarked, hopping off the base.

"Now now Private, you were saving the life of a commanding officer. I'll take the blame for this one son," Sarge said. Frank shook his head and turned to Doc. Jerking his head to the side he said,

"Get out. You're helping us push this thing off Sarge." Doc got out, and Grif let out a large moan.

"Really? _Really dude!?_ Is this how you respond to _all_ stressful events? Because if it is, I'm wondering how you managed to survive in this army. At all. Like, how did you get past _Basic?!_ " he asked, staring at the... dirty... driver's seat.

"I got kidnapped by a killer jeep! What did you expect?!" Doc said, trying to defend himself. Dex growled and shoved the man toward the base.

"You, get cleaned up. I refuse to work with a man who can't keep himself unsoiled. Eagle, go get the cleaning supplies, heavy duty. They should be in the south hall closet, top shelf. Simmons, you're helping me get this hunk of metal off Sarge. We'll deal with the mess afterward," the agent barked. The other three found themselves jumping to obey, something Eagle and Simmons had never experienced in Blood Gulch, not even from Sarge. For his part, the ed Sargent was speechless and found himself wondering if Marley had been right and he was merely making Grif's behavior worse by sidelining him.

/*/

When they had finally gotten the Warthog both off of Sarge and cleaned, Dex and Rick both turned to Doc, now also clean, and grabbed his arms. "Hey! What?" he exclaimed.

"Yeah... we've decided we don't need a medic," Rick said darkly.

"Yeah. Turns out, we all have basic first aid training. No need for you, Pointdexter!" Dex added, far too cheerfully.

"So we're taking you back to the Blues," finished Rick, dragging the hapless medic forward. The two marched Doc across the empty, though not desolate, canyon to Blue Base. Doc kept trying to convince them otherwise, but they didn't appear to hear him. That, or they just really didn't care. Yay for selective deafness!

"Uh? Church? I think you should know that the Reds..." began a soldier in regulation blue armor once the trio arrived at Blue Base.

"Dang it Caboose! In the short time I've known you, you've managed to call my girlfriend a slut, blow me up with a tank, shoot me in the head, and now paralyze me from the waist down. So I hope it's not too much for me to ask, just for once, if you'd shut your freaking mouth!" Church yelled, easily heard by the two Agents on the ground below. Dex and Rick shared a look. Poor Church. At least Eagle wasn't that bad. In fact, they rather liked the young soldier. He was basically their little brother. With wicked aim and a 'blow your brain to bits' sniper rifle. Rick decided, it was time to make their presence known.

"Hey blues, we're here to... what the heck are you guys doing?" Simmons yelled up. Hey, all he could see was a guy with his back to him and the other two crouched in front of him. Wouldn't _you_ be a little confused? And disturbed?

"Oh carp, the Reds are here," Tucker said, standing quickly to better see the Reds. And aim. Can't forget aiming.

"What?" asked Church sharply, which was pretty much his default tone. "Caboose, why didn't you say anything?" he demanded, rather unfairly in Doc's opinion.

"Maybe because you gave rather compelling reasons why it would be reasonable for you to request that he be silent when he tried," Dex remarked snidely. "Now, I'll get right to the point so we can all go back to our own pursuits. We're giving back the medic," he added.

"What? Give him back? You can't give him back. You took him. A deal's a deal," Tucker said, coming to the edge of the base.

"Yeah? Well, forget it," Grif shot back, feeling rather irritated with the Blue. "We don't want him."

"Well sorry! You can't have another prisoner. That was our last one!" Church called down, not turning around.

"Hey dude, what is your problem?" Grif asked. ' _Just pull out your gun and shoot him. It'd be easy. A single shot to the neck, where the armor's weakest. Hit there, it penetrates and has a high likelihood of severing the neural link between SPARTAN and armor. That done, he wouldn't be able to... oh wait. Wasn't he dead? HOW THE HECK IS HE STILL AROUND!_ ' Grif shook his head, trying to silence Dex's thoughts. It was easier said then done and the Agent part of his mind was still freaking out. Crazy Agent.

"I told you, these guys are weird," Doc muttered. Dex scoffed.

"Shut up, we didn't ask you," Rick said, cuffing the back of the medic's helmet with his pistol. His partner was torn between approval and irritation. Simmons had stolen his move! But... Simmons had used his move! It was indeed a dilemma. A dilemma that would have to wait.

"Look, we don't want him back," Church said, "and we don't care what you do with him. And if you don't mind, we'd appreciate it if you'd leave us alone. We're in the middle of something... kind of private over here." Grif and Simmons shared yet another look. Just more proof that the Blues were weird.

"Fine. But don't come asking for him back later," Simmons said, clearly hoping they'd change their minds and ask for Doc.

"We won't," called Tucker, already turning back to Church.

"Last chance," Grif tried.

"Beat it Reds," Church growled.

"All right, we're going, we're going," Grif said, running off after Doc and Simmons. "Can't blame a guy for trying," he muttered darkly to himself. Dex agreed.

/*/

Up in The Ghost, which had a near permanent holding pattern over Blood Gulch, Marlene White and Butch Flowers, also known as Marley and Flowdie respectively, had finally decided to forgo their armor aboard ship and were lounging in their pajamas, watching the drama unfold below them. Marley was dressed in a deep green t-shirt and gray sweatpants, soft white socks covering her feet. This outfit showed off her toned arms... and the network of scars that spoke of her violent life. Flowdie was similarly attired, but his socks were black, his pants were darker and had a cyan stripe down the sides, and his shirt was a light gray with cyan sleeves. Flowdie was a pale man with short cropped, sandy blond hair. Peeking from the v-neck of his shirt was a thick, pearly scar. He had received that not too long before he was sent to Blood Gulch. Marley could remember the mission clearly, oh so clearly. It was the mission that had cost C.T. her life, and Wash a part of his heart. It was a poorly kept secret that Wash had a crush on Connie. Almost as poorly hidden as York and Carolina. Marley forced her eyes to focus on her old friend's face, on his ice chip blue eyes and his slightly mocking, slightly smug, little half-there smile. She couldn't look at the scar left by the ax that embedded itself in his shoulder, couldn't bare to take in the various scars littering his arms. She hadn't seen what caused them, but several looked rather painful, thick and pearly. "Marley..." Flowdie began seriously, watching the soldiers he had once lead as they talked with Dex and Rick. The woman he was addressing was sitting in the window, cradling a mug of what he assumed to be either Earl Grey or hot coco.

"Yeah Flowdie?" Marley asked, eyes still fixed on 'her boys,' hands playing unconsciously with the warm mug between them. The man sighed, leaning against the wall to the front of her.

"Why did you decide not to train the Blues?" he asked, rolling his own warm mug between his hands. Unlike his dear Marley, Flowdie favored the Japanese style of cup, which allowed him to roll his cup between his hands without the hindrance of a handle. Marley blinked before slowly turning her head to look at her companion. His usually sunny expression was dark and solemn, just like his voice. His jaw set in that hard, stubborn way that meant he wasn't about to be swayed. She sighed.

"I'm not training them... because they're the ones all the drama is _really_ centered around and I thought the Reds should get a shot at drama and adventure," she told the ex-Freelancer. "I'm not training them because they get into so many situations that they're basically training themselves."

"But the Blues don't _have_ drama and adventure!" Flowdie protested.

"The Alpha A.I. Agent Florida posing as a Blue Team Captain. Tex. Yeah, I'd say they have drama," Marley countered, dropping to the floor and kicking her stockinged feet up behind her. Flowdie winced, sinking to the ground and resting his back against the wall.

"... Yeah. Okay. I see your point."

"Plus... it just. Gets. Worse."

"Seriously?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow. Marley nodded, eyes shadowed with visions of a likely future.

"Reggie's going to try to kill Tucker on O'Malley's orders. While O'Malley possesses Doc," she said. Another wince.

"That... would qualify as worse."

"Yep," Marley said, popping her 'p' before taking a sip of her hot coco. It was one of those days. Flowdie shook his head with another sigh, looking back down at Rick and Dex, who looked like they were going to be abandoning Doc in the middle of the canyon. No-man's Land.

"We going to pick Doc up?" he asked, sipping from his cup of coffee. He was surprised when Marley shook her head, looking pained.

"No. His abandonment is... kind of a plot point. His possession by O'Malley, and subsequent attempt to 'take over the universe' results in Tucker getting seriously injured and the Reds and Blues teaming up to track down Doc so he can treat Tucker. True, the Reds have no reason to want Tucker patched up, and I realize that my being a real doctor and allowing the Reds to know that I am makes the likelihood of that happening now reduced, but they _need_ to work together and that won't happen unless they're forced. Which is what happens when Tucker gets shot with a rocket and O'Malley steals Lopez. I can only hope my boys don't reveal their Agent sides fully until _after_ they are forced to work together," she said. Flowdie sighed, shaking his head.

"Ever feel like we're playing god?" he asked, eyes going distant. Marley sighed heavily.

"Far too often, Flowdie. Far too often," she replied darkly, "but if I don't get these guys to work together... I doubt Freelancer will get torn down. Them overcoming their differences and working together to overcome all odds was what... made it possible. Them breaking out of the 'Blue! Kill! Red! Kill!' mentality was the beginning of the fall. The _true_ fall. Freelancer failed the moment Tex, North, and York attacked the MoI."

"That... that happened?" Flowdie asked, halfway between shocked and awed. Marley chuckled, though it was a dead, mirthless sound that sent shivers down Flowdie's spine. He hated it when she laughed like that.

"Yes. Lucky for you, you were already out here, in the craziness that is Blood Gulch. Believe it or not, this was probably the best thing that ever happened to you." Flowdie scoffed, taking another drink of coffee.

"Oh, I can believe it," he said, chuckling lightly, some semblance of his usual boyish good humor returning. Marley found herself letting go of a breath she hadn't known she was holding. But... why was she worrying over Flowdie's dark mood? Hadn't she, at one point not that long ago, wished he'd grow up and settle down?

/*/

Grif caught up with Doc and Simmons a moment later, frowning under his helmet. "Man, and I thought our team was obnoxious," he said, "but those guys are really rude." Doc turned back around to continue back to Red Base, when Simmons cut him off.

"Whoa, hey, hey, whoa... where are you going?" he asked.

"Back to base with you guys," Doc said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. And, as was so often the case with Blood Gulch, in most cases it would be... but this was Blood Gulch and very little was actually logical. "They don't want me over there," Doc went on, jerking his head toward Blue Base.

"Yeah, I don't think so," Grif said, shooting that idea down.

"What? You're just going to leave me here, in the middle of nowhere, by myself?" Doc asked, shocked and appalled by the soldier.

"Yeah, that's kind of the general idea," Simmons answered.

"Not you too, right Grif? Old buddy? Huh?" Doc tried, though he knew it wasn't likely to work. Still, he had to try.

"Sorry man, it's pretty clear that you're not very popular around here, and if I'm gonna make any progress at all, I can't be directly associated with you. I'm sure you understand," Grif said, throwing Doc's words back in his face. ' _Poetic justice anyone?_ ' Dex thought darkly. Simmons mentally shook his head. Doc really should have seen that one coming. As it was, the purple medic just kept staring at Grif.

"Really man, you should have seen that coming. Grif's a beast when it comes to burns," Simmons said. ' _And with the amount of times I've seen him rubbing burn paste on himself, it's most certainly not a lie. He never even acts like he's burned!_ ' Rick added. Simmons forcefully shoved that thought away. Rick was thinking of Dex, who most certainly _was not Grif!_

"You guys are mean!" Doc whined. Dex Grif let out a hearty groan.

"A whiny pacifist who can't even _drive_. How in the _hell_ did you get into the Army? _Why_ are you in the Army?! You should be in some hick town, treating little kids who fall off the swing set, not foul mouthed soldiers who get shot!" he asked, shooting a burning glare at the medic, even if he couldn't see his face. "If there's one thing I hate in this world, it's people like you. People who can't accept the harsh reality of life. You... are a child, playing at being an adult and sooner or later... you're going to break. You're going to break and burn and when that day comes... nothing is going to be able to save you, because you'll be the cause of your own destruction." Rick Simmons shook his head, but couldn't argue.

"Come on Dex. Leave him," he said. The orange soldier turned without a word, stalking back toward his own base, a dark aura hanging about him and leaving a shaken Doc behind. Rick sighed, shaking his head, before jogging after the stalking soldier. Doc was the only one to notice that Simmons had called Grif 'Dex.'

/?/

A/N: Wow. I... was _really_ hard on Doc in this one, wasn't I? Still, I've got to wonder, why _is_ Doc in the army? I've got to agree with Dex on this one. Doc shouldn't be in the army.

A/N 2: These characters man... they love to run away with me. Anyway, minor edits made. Mostly spelling and word choice. 8/18/16


	21. Episode 19

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB.

A/N: I don't think there's really a way to edit Tucker. He is Tucker. His contribution to the humor cannot be edited. So, he's mostly safe from my language filter. Mostly.

 **Warning!** Tucker. Sarge. Mentions of child abandonment. Grif. That is all.

 **Episode 19:** The Red, The Blue, and The Doc

"So... we gonna follow..." Flowdie began slowly.

"Doc. It's going to just be everyday humdrum stuff for the Reds, so we shall focus on Doc and the Blues. Which also happens to be where O'Malley the AI is," Marley stated grimly, eyes locked on the view screen.

"Makes sense."

"Shushy! Stuff be happenin'!"

/*/

Doc stood there, alone in the middle of the canyon, watching the two Reds run back to their base, in shock. He... hadn't expected to have his own words thrown back at him. It hurt. A lot. And what was worse, was that _he had said them first_. And all for a social experiment! Maybe Grif was right, maybe he was the worst kind of person. He shook his head. No! He couldn't think like that! ' _Wuss!' 'Coward!' 'Whiny baby!' 'Mama's boy!' 'Useless!' 'Good for nothing!' 'Get out!' '_ _Don't ever come back._ _'_ The mocking, jeering, chilling words from his past came back, roaring, whispering, _tearing_ at his ears. He shook his head, and then himself, before turning toward the Blue base. "The Reds may have abandoned me, but I can't give up. Not when there's still one more place I might find shelter," he told himself. Sure the Blues had turned him away in no uncertain terms(' _We don't want him.' 'You can't give him back! You took him! A deal's a deal!_ ') but maybe... please? He didn't want to be abandoned. Not here. _Not again_. ( _'I'll be good, I promise!'_ 'Don't you love me mom?')

/*/

"What's going on? Are they there? Someone turn me around!" Church demanded, his legs having shorted out when the beeping sound had cut off.

"I don't know. I can't really see too clearly. I bet I could see better if I had that sniper rifle," Tucker said leadingly.

"Uh, Tucker. You might want to look behind you," Church said, staring in mild horror at Caboose, who just so happened to have the Blue team's sniper rifle.

"Fudge eater," the cyan soldier said, once he'd turned around and noticed said rookie with said rifle. What was it with rookies and the sniper rifles in this canyon? It was really rather irritating.

"Uh, ooh, Church!" Caboose began excitedly, like he always did when it came to Church. ' _And there's another thing. Church is my grudging comrade, not Caboose's best friend. Church treats most people like dirt, even if he sort of cares deep down. Why does this guy like him so much?_ ' Tucker pondered, but his questions were to go unanswered as Caboose continued to 'explain' what he saw. "Church! Ok, I... I see something. Okay? Uh, the two Red ones are walking away. Uh, but the purple one is..." Caboose paused a moment before, "I think he's going to attack." ' _And there's the creepy voice again! I knew I wasn't imagining it! Why won't Church believe me?!_ '

"Purple?" Church asked. "Oh wait a minute, the purple guy's that worthless medic."

"He's not gonna attack," Tucker stated as though he were talking to a rather young child, "he's a pussy fest."

"Pacifist," Church corrected in the manner of one who has done the same thing for years. Poor Church, he might as well have.

"Ah, whatever. Let's tie him up and roll him through the teleporter," Tucker responded.

/*/

"Oh, that that should be considered a punishment!" lamented Flowdie

"Steaming hot and covered in black gunk. Also, hurt's like a pod drop," Marley said, referencing what had happened the last two times the Blues had used the teleporter.

"Oh. Right. Yep. It's a punishment," Flowdie conceded, wincing slightly. Pod drops were horrible! And he should know, having been an ODST before Project Freelancer.

/*/

"Wait a second, wait a second. Think about this for a minute," Church entreated. "Why would the Reds leave him out there by himself? This has to be some kind of trick." Caboose decided to remind everyone he was there by putting forth his own theory.

"I'll bet they've used some kind of brainwashing technique on him! They're... they're probably planning to have him do all their dirty plans! And also the schemes!" Tucker turned from watching the valley to staring at Caboose. Church hadn't had much choice but to stare at Caboose before, but now he had a feeling he would have turned around anyway in the face of such ridiculousness.

"Caboose, that is ridiculous," Tucker said.

"Is it?" Caboose challenged, ignoring the purple medic closing in on the base in favor of making his idea heard! "Or is it so ridiculous it's the most ridiculously perfect idea that you've never thought of?"

"No, just the regular kind of ridiculous," Tucker quickly shot back. Seriously, the things that came out of Caboose's mouth...

"Well just keep your eye on him," Church said slowly, "we'll know it's a trick if he tried to get into our base." Of course, it was just as Church finished saying this that Doc made his presence known.

"Hey guys! Uh, do you think I could come hang out at your base for a while?" he called. ' _Well, he might be coming back, but he really sounds... lost_ ,' Tucker thought, turning back to the purple medic.

"I knew it," Caboose piped up. "We're all gonna die. Starting with you," he added, the threat at the end far deeper than Caboose's usual voice. It sent a by now familiar tingle down Tucker's back. It made the cyan soldier want to whip out his gun and shoot the source between the eyes. He'd even begun practicing the move. It was a way to pass time in the most boring canyon in the galaxy.

"Sorry, but we're kind of busy here," Tucker called down, fighting against the urge to shoot his creepy teammate. "So go away... or something."

"Normally I wouldn't impose it's just that I don't know the neighborhood too well, and..." Doc said, but Church cut him off and turned him away at the same time by saying,

"Listen Doc, you're not fooling anybody with that innocent victim routine!"

"Hey, I could help! I know more than just medicine. I'm trained in psychology too. Maybe I could help you with your problem facing people," Doc tried.

"Just get out of here!" Church yelled, "and tell your buddies in the Red that their little plan failed."

/*/

At Church's words, Doc hung his head and ran back the way he'd come. He figured he should be used to this kind of thing by now. After all, he'd been turned away by just about everyone. _So why did it still hurt?_ And why was now the most painful of all the rejections? More painful than being abandoned by teachers, friends... heck, even his _parents_ abandoned him! And... no one had ever told him _why._ Oh sure, they said he was 'weird' or 'creepy,' but they'd never given a real _reason_. His parents had just... vanished. There when he went to bed then gone in the morning. ' _They're gone kid. Skipped town in the night.'_ That's what just about everyone had told him. _'Ha! Bet they didn't want a no-account looser like you for a son anyway!'_ That's what a few of the older kids had said. But he'd gotten better! He'd tried to be more positive, to not get into fights, to believe that violence never solved anything. He'd _promised_ to be good. Though, it was pretty clear why Grif abandoned him. Him throwing Doc's words back into his face was a pretty big indicator as to why _he_ was pushing Doc away but... Why were the Blues so annoyed with him? Plan? What plan? He _had_ no plan! That was the whole problem! Doc stopped abruptly and drew in a sharp breath. Careful. Careful.

 _Don't go back._

 _Can't go back..._

The Army was the first to accept him, after college, but now Frank Defresne was wondering... had they really? Grif's words came back to him, echoing in his head. ' _One day, you're going to break. You're going to break and burn and when that day comes... nothing is going to be able to save you, because you'll be the cause of your own destruction_.'

 _Can't go back._

 _Have to... move forward..._

He wasn't sure how long he ran, the words of rejection and condemnation swimming in his head and whispering in his ears, before he reached the caves. They were bare, drafty, and he could hear water dripping somewhere, but they were better than being in the middle of the canyon where he could easily be caught in the crossfire. So, he sat down and made camp, such as it was. And he sat there, alone with his thoughts.

 _Ghosts in my head..._

 _Can I move on... ?_

/*/

"Poor Doc. You sure we can't pick him up?" Flowdie asked, mug of coffee forgotten by his side. Marley sighed.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"But... he's just a medic. And he looks emotionally fragile right now."

"Mother birds push their young out of the nest to teach them to fly. Sea turtle eggs are buried under the sand and left to fend for themselves. A Drill Sargent pushes his troops to the breaking point of any regular man... and then beyond. Some break and fail, some preserver and become good soldiers, and then you get the ones that shatter, then forge themselves back together for the sake of their comrades. That, is how a great soldier is made. For doctors, having a patent die on the table is the worst thing to happen and until you face that, you don't know if you have what it takes to be great. Doc hasn't faced that yet. If he had, he'd be far better than he is now. He hasn't even faced a Drill Sargent. This, is only the beginning of his trials. Even now, he is a sheltered child, but Dex and Church have begun the process of tearing that shelter down, brick by brick. And there will come a time, when Doc is forced to face horrific wounds and the knowledge that if he makes one mistake... it could very well cost the brave soldier his life."

"What are..."

"I'm saying that what you would call 'helping him' I'd call 'being soft on him.' And the last thing Doc needs, is someone going easy on him. He's a part of the Reds and Blues, Flowdie. He has his part to play, and play it he must, as much as it pains us to watch. He must play his part in all of this."

"Harsh."

"That's the life of a soldier, Flowdie. That's the hand I've been dealt. The hand we've all been dealt," Marley said, face as grim as her words. Flowdie caught a reflection of her eyes in the window, and sighed. For as set and unyielding as those eyes were... there were silver tears shining in them all the same.

/*/

Eagle was having fun. Who knew annoying Sarge could be so rewarding?! "Just you and me at the base today huh? Well this is new. So I noticed you use a shotgun. That's cool," he blathered, mentally chuckling as waves of silent irritation poured off the fuming Sargent to his right. "I just use this sniper rifle," he added, turning to Sarge, "it works for me." Seeing Sarge was still steadfastly watching the canyon, Eagle Eye decided it was time for a new annoyance technique. He began to whistle. He got bored with that _real_ quick and returned to talking. Or, rather, a variation of the 'are we there yet?' question. "So, you think the guys will be back soon? What do you think they're up to? You think they stopped at the store?" ' _That thrice dratted store!_ ' "I noticed we were getting _pre~_ tty low on elbow grease." ' _Darn you Grif! And you too Simmons. You didn't remind me that was a figure of speech!_ ' Eagle watched Sarge for a moment, his CO's frustration distracting him from his own. He decided, it was time to make another play for 'better' armor. "When you die, can I have your armor?" he asked, just as Grif came jogging up the ramp, Simmons not far behind.

"Hey, we're back," Simmons said.

"Oh man, am I glad to see you guys," Eagle said, all too happy. Sarge just turned around, far too irritated with the pink Private to say anything at the moment. "Sarge would _not_ stop talking. Seriously."

"Grif, Simmons, were you able to work out a suitable exchange?" Sarge asked, barely restraining himself from strangling the pink Private at his side.

"Uh, not exactly sir. You see, when we showed up, the Blues were doing something really weird. And then the..." Simmons said, before Grif cut him off.

"Really weird. And they were rude," he said.

"Hey Grif, I thought we agreed I was going to tell the story," Simmons groused, obviously put off by the interruption.

"Excuse me, go ahead," Grif said sarcastically.

"Well, you see, the Blue guys were really weird. And not just normal weird, really weird," Simmons went on.

"You're not telling it right," Grif interrupted.

"Ok, fine, how do you remember it?" Simmons asked, giving up on telling things his way. Eagle was having quite a time of keeping his chuckles under control.

"Well, I remember we agreed that you're a suck up," Grif said. "I got fuzzy on the rest of the details." Oh, Eagle was _sure_ he was smirking under that helmet.

"Anyway, they didn't want the prisoner back sir," Simmons related, playing the 'ignore the fool' game that pretty much everyone played more or less constantly in Blood Gulch.

"Why, those cunning Blue devils. Does their treachery know no bounds?" Sarge declared.

"It wasn't a total loss sir," Grif said, though Eagle had to wonder if he was really trying to appease Sarge. "I was able to steal his wallet." Ah. Actually... Eagle wasn't sure if that was appeasing Sarge... or just making himself feel better.

"Grif, I may just make a respectable soldier out of you yet." Wait... what?

"Really sir?" Grif asked, incredulous. Eagle only just managed to keep from laughing, that was exactly what he was thinking, but what Sarge said next caused a few chuckles to leak out.

"Heck no! Now leave the money on my nightstand and get back to work!" Grif growled, then shrugged and trudged off, flicking a dark brown wallet into the air as he left.

"There's Doc's money. I'm out," he said. Simmons chuckled and followed... until Sarge stopped him.

"Take over Simmons! I need to make sure Grif actually does his work!" he said. Simmons chuckled again.

"You mean, 'I can't take anymore of Eagle's non-stop talking,'" he said. Sarge didn't even pause in his escape. Simmons turned to the pink soldier. "You just had to annoy him... didn't you?" he asked. Eagle shrugged, grinning rakishly under his helmet where no-one could see it.

"I was wondering when he'd snap and tell me to 'drop and give me twenty!' Sadly, you interrupted before I could get him to that point," he said. Simmons laughed lightly, looking out over the canyon.

"Guard duty is rather boring, but annoying your CO is not the best of ideas."

"Oh? Then what do you call what you and Grif do on guard duty?"

"Annoying an equal. Bantering with a friend. Training ourselves not to Team Kill. Take your pick," Simmons responded easily. Eagle chuckled and leaned against the wall of the base.

"And here I thought it was the Blues who were weird."

"Oh they are."

"Yeah... but you guys are too."

"Your point?"

"Don't be so quick to judge." Simmons found himself suffering from uncontrollable chuckles.

/*/

Grif was just exiting storage when a grenade was going off in the middle of No-Man's Land. He dashed up the ramp to see Eagle with his rifle surrounded by Simmons and Sarge. "What the heck is going on out there?!" he heard Sarge yell at Eagle.

"Sir, I think we're under attack. A very sloppy, poorly-coordinated attack," the young man reported.

"How many do you see?" Sarge asked. Grif began mentally preparing... meaning he was giving the 'Dex' side of him a bit more control.

"There's two running our way, and another one seems to be... retreating?" Eagle said, a little unsure about that last part. Grif was too. Why would a Blue be retreating when he had back-up coming?

"Oh, we'll give them all a reason to retreat," Sarge said darkly. "Saddle up Simmons, let's go rope us some Blue steer!"

"Whoo-hoo! Yeah!" Simmons shouted, leaping off the base.

"Yeah!" Sarge yelled. Eagle stifled a snicker as Grif waved mockingly at their retreating backs.

"So, just you and me, hanging out at the base," the young soldier said to his orange armored teammate, grinning evilly all the while. "That's cool."

"Shut up Rookie," Grif growled. Eagle blinked, staring at Grif for a moment, before his grin grew just a little larger.

"Oh, I think we'll get along just fine," he said before falling silent and tracking Sarge and Simmons Warthog through his scope. "Say, think they'll be gone long? You and Simmons interrupted me and Sarge. I have a feeling I was ten seconds away from getting him to snap."

"Wait wait wait... you mean to say you _goaded_ Sarge?" Grif asked in shock.

"Ya know... it always amazes me when people think I'm an innocent rookie who wouldn't dare mess with my CO," Eagle replied. "Anyway, me and Sarge had a great time together."

"I'm really not going to crack."

"Hum... that's what makes this fun Grif!" Eagle said. "Want to know what we did?"

"Oh for the love of Godiva! Shut up!"

"Aw~! You're cracking already?" Grif gave a great shuddering moan. It was going to be a long day.

/*/

"All right, hit it!" Simmons called, wanting to get as far away from an annoying, bored, Eagle as he could. He really had no trouble throwing Grif under that bus. As they bounded across the canyon, Sarge and Simmons continued to act like cowboys. Why, Simmons really couldn't tell you. He also couldn't tell you why he seemed to be having fun with it. It just was. Though, 'jumping' the Warthog over a hill just the Blues' side of the middle of the canyon, Simmons could have sworn he saw a real, transparent, ghost watching them. "Hey sarge! Hold on a sec," he said, jumping off the gunner's platform. "Did you see something weird Sarge?" he asked.

"Yes I did," Sarge said, stopping the Warthog and hopping out, "once, when I was a small child, I saw a man who claimed to be my uncle do this thing with a garden hose that still haunts me to thi..."

"Whoa, whoa," Simmons said quickly, cutting off Sarge's story. He _really_ didn't need to know that! "I meant, did you see something weird just now, like five seconds ago," he clarified.

"Oh. Then no," Sarge said quickly. Simmons had a feeling he was a bit embarrassed about the whole garden hose... thing.

"What was all that stuff about your uncle?" Simmons just had to ask. Seriously, how could he just leave something like that hanging? I mean, what made him feel like he had to talk about _that_?!

"I keep telling everyone, he wasn't my uncle! He wasn't!" Sarge denied. Simmons quirked an eyebrow. Venomous much?

"You want to talk about it?" Simmons asked, though he was kinda hoping Sarge'd say no. He wasn't a therapist, and he had a feeling that should he ever get shipped back home he'd need one himself for all the craziness that went down in this canyon, but he had felt obligated to ask. So, he was rather relived when Sarge said,

"Just get back in the darn jeep."

/*/

Back over where the _real_ drama was happening... "Eagle... I swear... you say... one more word... and I'll throw you off this base, drop a crate of grenades on your head, and then shoot it... with a ROCKET LAUNCHER!" Dex bellowed. Eagle flinched... and shut up. Dex breathed a deep sigh of relief. The kid just never. Stopped. Talking! 'Bomp, thump. Bomp, thump.' "What is that?"

"You never seen someone play catch with themselves before Grif?" Eagle asked lightly, tossing the slightly ragged tennis ball at the wall of the base, then catching it with the opposite hand. Grif sighed, cast a look over his shoulder, then shrugged.

"Doubt we'll get attacked... and if all I hear is that noise, I'm going to go crazy. Toss it here," he said, holding up a hand. Eagle bounced slightly, their version of a smile, and tossed the ball to the other soldier.

/*/

"I told you throwing that grenade through the teleporter would work. Church is going to be so impressed," Tucker said, turning to Caboose and ignoring the robot in front of them.

"And Sheila will love me again," the blue Private said. Tucker felt that twitch, that special 'Caboose twitch,' in his left eyebrow. There he went, being all weird again. Stupid Caboose. "And this time, for who I am, not just for my stunning good looks, but for those too." Lopez took this moment to sneakily insult them in Spanish.

"Darn those blue guys. They really are as stupid as they look," the robot muttered. Caboose replied in his 'deep scary voice.'

"Your soul is a cavern of lies," he said.

"What the heck are you two talking about?" Tucker asked, totally lost. Not only did he not speak Spanish, but Caboose's comment just plain didn't make sense. ' _I mean, coodoos for the scary dark tone, but what does that even mean?_ ' he wondered.

"You may have won this round, but your cruel reign of tyranny will be short lived," Lopez dramatically claimed... still in Spanish. "The Red people will be avenged..." he continued... in Spanish... before Tucker cut off his dramatic speech.

"Yeah yeah yeah, nobody cares. We need you to fix our tank," Tucker said.

"Never will I work for the enemy," Lopez responded, this time in English, before continuing in Spanish. Rants were always better in Spanish... according to Lopez. "May a pox be upon your soul and your house. Long have my people suffer, but very soon wee will see the coming of a new day..." as he spoke, Lopez saw his primary objectives listed out in red. '1. Fix everything. 2. hate the orange one. 3. Call mom more often.' "The dawn of our time is near, and when the darkness befalls your people the workers of the field will know that this is their moment," he went on, still in Spanish. It was at that point Tucker pretty much stopped listening.

"Man, and I thought Church talked too much," he remarked to Caboose. "You think if I kick him in the switch he'll shut up?" Caboose turned to him.

"Um, Tucker? I think that maybe we should begin the going of the running now," he said, having noticed something coming up behind Lopez the Spanish Ranting Robot from Red Base. "The fast running," he added, turning back toward Red Base, Tucker following his movement.

"Oh carp!" Tucker exclaimed, seeing the Red Team's Warthog, complete with Sarge and maroon gunner guy.

/*/

Simmons lined up his shot on the three Blues. "Hold your fire there, Simmons," Sarge called back, "this is payback time." Understanding perfectly, there was only one response Simmons could give.

"Go for it sir!"

/*/

"That's right, we're just casually strolling away. No cause for concern," Tucker said, quickly backpedaling and leaving Caboose out there alone with Lopez and a Warthog manned by Reds. Caboose paused for a moment, then declared,

"Running time!"

"Nice and casual, moron!" Tucker yelled after the running Private... before running after him. Lopez, still stuck in Spanish mode, nodded imperiously.

"Yes, yes, run away, you cowardly dogs. Be it known that the great Lopez has won this day and..." he monologed, not knowing Sarge and Simmons were bearing down on him in a Warthog and with his new paint job, they wouldn't be able to tell him from the Blue 'ghost' that had been possessing him.

"Aim for that guy right in the middle, Sarge," Simmons instructed.

"Way ahead of ya Simmons!" Sarge replied, pressing a little harder on the accelerator. ' _How Grif makes this look so easy I don't know,_ ' Sarge thought. ' _It's far harder than I thought._ '

"What is happening?" Lopez asked, finally switching back to English. He turned around to see the Warthog barreling toward him. There was no way it could stop or turn in time to not hit him. More red text flashed across his display. 'System override protocol, remote destruct sequence.' "You have given me no choice," Lopez muttered, switching back to Spanish in robotic distress.

"We've got you now, you blue idiot!" Lopez heard Simmons yell as yet more red text flashed before him. 'ACTIVATED.' "Hey, Sarge, do you hear a strange beeping sound?" Simmons asked just before the Warthog blew up.

"I'm sorry, father," Lopez lamented... in Spanish, thus making it so that Caboose and Tucker didn't understand the depth of his despair. Of course, Lopez always got stuck in Spanish mode when his emotion simulator fluctuated wildly or slipped into 'negative.' So, Lopez was going to be stuck in Spanish mode as long as he was with the Blues. Yeah, sometimes, it really sucked to be him.

"All right, not bad robot dude," Tucker enthused.

"I knew he would save us," Caboose said in something similar to awe. It was kinda hard to tell with Caboose. Tucker turned to him, incredulous. "I knew it!" Tucker blinked at the last living member of Blue Team. This kid... it must be so fun inside his head... so many bunny trails and _so_ much denial. "Robot people always like me. It's because of my awesome dancing." Seriously, what goes on inside that head of his?

"My spirit is broken," Lopez muttered, causing attention to once more be focused on him. "My people have betrayed me and now all is lost. Do with me what you will."

"Yeah, okay man," Tucker said, not understanding a word, "can you just shut up and fix our tank?"

/*/

When they'd heard the 'boom' of the Warthog blowing up, Dex had jumped straight off the base and Frank had dived for cover then rolled into a crouch with his sniper rifle at the ready. Seeing no enemies, but a plume of smoke in the distance, the two shared a look, then took off toward it, Frank hanging back to cover Dex if needed. Neither really noticed how they fell into their positions, and honestly, they had more important things to deal with. Like the groaning Sarge and Simmons along with the still smoking remains of the Warthog. Dex sighed and turned to Frank. "Looks like the Blues have already cleared out. You take Simmons, I'll take Sarge, and once their safely back at base, we'll come back for the jeep," he said, already making his way toward Sarge, assault rifle holstered across his back. Frank nodded and looked Simmons over, determining how bad his injuries were and how would be the best way to carry him. Coming to the conclusion that a fireman's carry wouldn't cause undue stress on his wounds, Frank hoisted the maroon soldier onto his shoulders and set off back to base. Dex conducted a similar scan of his Commanding Officer, and decided that a stretcher would be needed. As Sarge had been driving, he had been unable to jump clear of the jeep as Simmons had. Sighing, he set about making a makeshift sled he could drag Sarge back to base on. It took a while, but eventually Sarge and Simmons were safe in the 'med bay' and the Warthog was laying on it's side outside the base. Shockingly, when Dex and Frank had gotten back with the Warthog, Simmons and Sarge were back on their feet. Sarge insisted on working on the Warthog, and Eagle decided to go off who knew where to do goodness knew what.

/*/

"I hate chess," Frank groused. Flowdie chuckled, capturing another of his pawns.

"Wouldn't be because you suck at it, would it?" Marley asked with a smirk from the doorway.

"Oh, why did I ever agree to this?"

"Because you would have been stuck in pink armor for the rest of your fake military career if you hadn't?" offered Flowdie, moving his rook four spaces to the left. Frank glared at him and captured his rook with a knight.

"I hate you all."

/*/

So, Grif and Simmons were left alone on top of the base. Nothing new there. "Is it just me, or does this jeep seem like really bad luck?" asked Grif, eying the blackened remains of their Warthog with trepidation.

"Yeah, ya know, now that you mention it, it does seem like _every_ time we get into the darn thing is breaks or explodes or goes crazy and tries to kill one of us," Simmons replied as Eagle ran up beside him. For his part, Eagle was just glad he got out after one humiliating defeat. No way was he letting Marley, or Flowdie, talk him into playing chess ever again.

"Maybe we should try exchanging it for a few motorcycles," Eagle said, looking down on the 'bad luck' jeep. Then an idea came to him. "No, wait, wait... a big tank like the Blues have. That thing never seems to have any problems at all."

/*/

Flowdie slowly edged away from his manically laughing 'friend,' a wary look in his eye. "My 'useless vow' and 'irony' senses are tingling~!" Marley sang with evil glee. Flowdie moaned in sympathy, even if it was ahead of time.

"Poor poor fool," he sighed.

"Oh oh! And get this... it's _double!_ " Marley cackled, eyes sparkling with unholy glee. While usually he found this amazingly beautiful, at the moment... Flowdie was fighting the urge to jump out of the ship and hide in a cave. Possibly with Doc.

"I pity the fool," he said gravely. Marley shook her head at him.

"No no no, you have to say it right." Flowdie quirked an eyebrow.

"Oh?" he inquired. Marley nodded so vigorously, she bounced.

"Yeah! It's... I pity da fo. Try it!" she answered, waving her hands at him in an excited 'go on' motion.

"... No. And don't _ever_ talk like that _again,_ " he declined, staring her down. She huffed, crossing her arms with a pout.

"Spoil sport," she muttered, turning her head to the side. Flowdie grinned and noted it as a win. He had to take any he could get.

/*/

Meanwhile, an 'emotionally distressed' Lopez was getting instructions from 'ghost' Church. "All right, that's the deal mister robot. You fix our tank, we'll let you go free," he said.

"I thought the plan was to trick him into fixing the tank and then Church will take over his body again when he is done," Caboose 'whispered' to Tucker. The cyan soldier wondered if there were whispering lessons he could send the rookie to. Seems he was a rookie in a lot of ways.

"Yeah, but you don't tell the person you're tricking what's going on Caboose," Tucker explained.

"So, if I'm the one being tricked, then you would not tell me what is really going on?" asked Caboose, aghast.

"Why would we trick you?" asked Tucker, puzzled by the way Caboose's mind worked. Oh wait... he was already puzzled by Caboose's brain functions... or... lack there of.

"Oh, I think you know," Caboose shot back, almost sounding angry but not quite. In fact, it kinda sounded like he was mimicking a 'scandalized girlfriend confronts boyfriend' scene from a sitcom but couldn't quite get the emotion in the voice just right. Meanwhile, depressed Lopez was being depressed with Church.

"Where will I go?" the now-Spanish robot asked. "Even my friends have tried to kill me."

"Okay, I'm going to take that as a yes," Church said, "and let you get busy with the tank fixing."

"I have no home," depressed!Lopez said... with no emotion in his voice.

/?/

A/N: Poor DOC! I was really mean to him wasn't I? Eh, I could have been worse to him. I wanted him to meet Dex when he was training in The Cave, but couldn't fit it in the time line. So... Doc actually dodged a bullet in this one.

I don't know why, but I just feel like he had a really tragic home life that traumatized him, making him the Doc we see in the series. Wait... now that I'm thinking about it... all of Red Team has emotional baggage from their home lives. Though... maybe not Doughnut. He's going to be the odd one out... maybe. Heh, poor poor Doughnut. Also... Depressed!Lopez and a random chess game! As well as the answer to how Sarge and Simmons got back to base and how the misunderstood!Lopez jokes are going to work. YAY!

A/N 2: Yeah... not much was changed on this one. Though, I should point out that originally Dex's gym was in The Caves rather than a hidden nook. While checking my continuity, I remembered Grif's fear of bats, so that ruled the cave gym out. Also, Doughnut now has some emotional baggage! 8/18/16


	22. Episode 20

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB. I do own Marly, the awesomely mildly insane ex-Freelancer.

 **Episode 20:** Realization

Grif didn't know why, but Sarge had him up on the side of the jeep, looking over toward the Blues... Oh wait! Sarge was _always_ spying on the Blues! And all of his spying plans were super crazy! Ha! That's why! Hold on... "Aw carp. Uh, hey, they have a guy fixing their tank," Grif reported, spotting a blue guy crouching on the tank with little sparks flying about through the scope of their spare sniper rifle, since there was no way they were getting the good one off Eagle. Why Eagle wasn't climbing on top of the jeep and spying on the Blues, Grif doubted he'd ever understand, but there you have it.

"Impossible! Our intelligence clearly states..." Sarge began.

"We have intelligence?" Eagle asked, sounding highly shocked. Grif and Simmons chuckled under their breath, skillfully ignoring the secondary meaning as that would be an insult to themselves. Sometimes, Eagle could dish out some amazing sarcasm.

"That the only soldiers in the canyon with mechanical training are that dead Freelancer and Lopez," Sarge continued on, ignoring the sniper completely. Simmons twitched slightly. So, no-one knew he had mechanical training? Wait... what about Grif? He shot a side long look toward the other soldier, who was looking straight at him. "Oh, wait a minute."

"Sarge, are you thinking what I'm thinking? Lopez runs away. The jeep starts driving itself. And suddenly there's a new guy on the Blue team?" Simmons asked, thinking he was putting the pieces together.

"Yes Simmons, I am. Quite obviously the Blue team has constructed some kind of diabolical mind control ray beam that they used on Lopez, and now he has to do their evil Blue bidding!" Sarge hypothesized. Simmons barely refrained from face-palming while Grif jumped down from the Warthog.

"Or, since he's a robot, maybe they just reprogrammed him," the orange soldier offered, which was pretty logical for Blood Gulch. However, it was one of those odd times where the truth was more outlandish than any of the rumors.

"Or maybe, that Blue guy who got killed by the tank came back as a ghost and now he's possessing Lopez's body. That could also explain why Sarge went nuts when we had the prisoner. The Blue ghost probably possessed him too. And the jeep going nuts was probably just a weird set of coincidences while the guy learned how to use Lopez's body," Eagle offered. When he was done, the other members of Red team could only stare at him in shock, confusion, and that weird emotion you feel when the only thought going through your head is 'what the heck did that guy just say?'

/*/

Flowdie blinked, staring at Eagle himself. "Wait... Marley... isn't that basically what happened?"

"Eh, Caboose isn't the only one who gets things. Doughnut might be an idiot later on, or would have been, but he got things too. Sometimes. This... is one of those times," the woman replied, shrugging.

"Huh. Well. Bully for him then."

/*/

Simmons said the only thing he really could at that moment. "I think I like the ray beam idea better."

"Yeah rookie, despite how well that explains Sarge going all weird, Lopez saying that the mean lady was trying to kill us with a tank, and all... it sounds a little dumb. Plus, I really don't want to believe ghosts exist. That's... a little creepy. I've seen enough traumatizing things in this war without adding ghosts," Grif said, causing Simmons to twitch and add another tick mark in the 'Dex is Grif' column. Oh, how he hated that mental tally, but he couldn't seem to stop keeping track.

"Oh? Really now? So... you want to believe in mind control over a ghost? How is mind control less creepy than a ghost?" Eagle asked, crossing his arms and leaning back on his left leg slightly. Grif scoffed, though he did feel a little uncomfortable.

"I don't know! It just is!" Eagle hummed and Rick could picture only so well the smirk that just had to be playing on his lips, those cornflower blue eyes narrowed and calculating. It was a surprisingly intimidating mental image. For some odd reason, Sarge had already gone back into the base. Weird. Then again, this is Sarge we're talking about, so... Yeah. Less said the better.

"Is it now? How very strange," Eagle commented. Simmons sighed.

"Hawaii has a lot of ghost stories. Not a lot of them are benign. In fact, most of them are the things nightmares are made of. True, war is full of nightmare material, but it's the kind of nightmare material you can shoot... most of the time. And this is a Blue ghost you're talking about. That's not likely to be kind. Which would you rather have, a ghost inside your mind that cannot be removed without physical harm, or a control ray that can be reversed or broken when you get your hands on the main controls?" he said, making placating motions toward the rookie. Eagle sighed and dropped his arms, standing solidly on both legs once again.

"Okay. Fair enough. I guess I just haven't been a soldier long enough and haven't gotten to the point that you lot have. Honestly, for a backwater canyon, you guys are paranoid," he said before he headed back into the base. Grif harrumphed, then turned to Simmons.

"So. Unofficial mechanical training huh?" he asked.

"Why would you think that?" Simmons asked, crossing his arms defensively. Grif shrugged.

"Oh, no reason. But Sarge couldn't have been the one to give you that radio to fix, since he doesn't seem to think you're capable of something like that. And since I know you're capable of that, and a lot more besides, but the Sarge doesn't, it begs the question... where did you get your training, and why isn't it listed in your file?" he replied, nonchalant, conversational tone never changing. Simmons fidgeted slightly before he huffed.

"Oh shut up. Like you don't have unlisted skills yourself," he countered. Grif snorted.

"Oh, nice comeback! What do you know about my 'unlisted skills?' Nothing, that's what! And how would I list them anyway? Storyteller, parent, short order cook?" Simmons winced. Okay, Grif had _not_ taken that one well. He didn't think he'd ever heard Grif speak with such venom.

"You're right. I'm sorry. Yes, I have unofficial mechanical training. I took on online course, found some scraps of junk, and did some at-base 'labs.' I don't even have a certificate," Simmons said, not noticing that Grif had frozen, as in, completely stopped moving. Thoughts were swirling around the orange soldier's head, but the one that stood out was a memory from over three months ago. Simmons, sitting on the roof, messing with a radio, muttering about 'Flowdie' and bullets in uncomfortable places. Flowdie. Flowdie was that guy on The Ghost with the cyan accents.

"Marley," Grif breathed, eyes wide. Simmons froze, slowly turning toward his partner.

"What did you say?" he asked, silently hoping Grif hadn't said what he thought he had said.

"Marley," Grif repeated. "Marley's the one who set up your training, isn't she? She left you the radio."

"Why would you..."

"Flowdie," Grif stated, as though it answered everything. Simmons jerked in surprise. "That day, not long after Eagle got here, I found you on the roof, fiddling with that busted up old radio, muttering about putting bullets in uncomfortable places... in regards to Flowdie. Now, there's only one Flowdie I know of, and he's a gray armored Spartan with cyan accents on board The Ghost. And The Ghost is the home of a crazy black armored Spartan called Marley. And Marley, loves to pick up 'strays' and train them. Make them into something. She did it to me, and I'm guessing, she did it to you. Am I right?" the orange armored soldier pressed, not noticing he had been stalking closer to Simmons until the maroon soldier flipped him over his shoulder and held a knife to his throat. "Ah. Agent Maroon. It's so obvious, it's a wonder I didn't figure it out before now," Dex mused calmly.

"Then I guess it's time to stop deluding myself, huh... Dex," Rick replied. Dex chuckled.

"Now I get why Marley kept telling me Blood Gulch was an illusion. She got us to pull the wool over our own eyes, didn't she?" he said. Rick snorted.

"You mean a second layer of wool, right?" he asked.

"Ah. She told you about the simulation as well then?" Dex asked, getting a nod from his comrade. "Yeah, it's a right mess, but it's our mess."

"Think Sarge and Eagle are Red Agents as well?" Rick asked.

"I wouldn't be surprised if Sarge is Red, but Eagle..."

"Sniper."

"Ah. Yeah. They're totally a part of this. But let's not let them know that we know. Let them out themselves... like I apparently did," Dex said. Rick chuckled.

"I was suspecting you for a while, though from the sound of it, you were suspecting something was off with me as well," he said. Dex shrugged as well he could from the ground and with a knife pointed at him. "Oh! Here," Rick said, sheathing his knife and holding a hand out toward Dex. The downed soldier took it with a nod and hauled himself up.

"I was suspicious from the first day I got my Agent armor. Orange. Maroon. Red. Burgundy. There were no analogs for Burgundy in the canyon at the time, but you and Sarge? I suspected, but you played your part so well... I begin seriously considering I wasn't the only Agent in the canyon after about half a year, yes, but it took me a while to connect the dots. Until now, to be honest," he confessed. Rick shrugged.

"Even the best slip up sometimes, yeah? What gave me away? Before I put a knife to your throat that is?"

"Yeah. And it was how... at ease you were. Especially under pressure. When things started getting too real... the sharp, precise, deadly, yet witty Maroon I knew showed. I'm guessing that was what outed me as well. Any idea how tiring it is to act like a lazy, incompetent, should-still-be-called-rookie not-a-soldier is? No? It's doggone exhausting!" Dex ranted. Rick stood in the 'I'm-giving-you-the-eyebrow' stance. "Now let's see what our eagle eyed sniper is up to," Dex suggested before sauntering toward the base.

"Stop walking so much like you. You'll get Frank suspicious," Rick admonished. Dex groaned, but slouched down and began to trudge. "Yeah. Much better."

"Stop sounding so much like yourself. Red'll wonder where his personal Yes Man went off to," the weapons specialist groused. Rick sighed, but didn't say a word. Dex had a point, as loath as Rick was to admit it. ' _Darn you, younger self!_ '

/*/

Sarge assembled his troops on the roof of his base. "Ladies, it has come to my attention that we are in need of a new robot type person. Who here wants to volunteer?" he asked.

"Are we going on a trip? I love trips! Can we play I Spy? And the license plate game?" Eagle asked excitedly. If Dex hadn't known better, he'd have thought the kid was an idiot. But he did know better. It was all on purpose.

"Shut up, Eagle Eye," Dex requested.

"Please?" persisted Eagle.

"Uh, sir?" asked Rick.

"Or Punch Buggy?" continued Eagle.

"Why won't this guy shut up?" muttered Dex while Eagle went one with,

"Or... or the alphabet with the signs game?"

"What exactly do you mean by volunteer?" Rick said, finishing his question.

"Quite obviously, we are without a robot or any other type of recruit with mechanical training or dexterity. Therefore, the only solution is to turn one of you into a robot and/or freaky cyborg thing," Sarge answered. Of course, this didn't sit well with Rick and Dex.

"Wait, what?"

"Have you gone crazy?"

"What the heck?"

"That's the stupidest..."

"Cool!" said Eagle. Rick and Dex slowly turned to who they had, not too long ago, considered a possible candidate for Agent Burgundy. "I vote for Simmons!" Dex and Rick continued to stare at the pink armored solider. A single thought was running through their minds. ' _Way to throw Rick/me under the bus there buddy._ '

"I'm told the cyborg operation is a relatively simple procedure, really," Sarge said, turning away from his team.

"Is he talking to us?" asked Rick, turning to share a look with Dex.

"Where the mostly useless guts and slimy goo of the human body are replaced with the no doubt superior guts and oily goo of a robot," Sarge carried on, as though Rick hadn't spoken at all. Under his helmet, Rick indulged in a deathly glare.

"I'm confused," Grif muttered dazedly.

"If you're lucky, you may even get a copper rectum," Sarge finished.

"Uh... couple of things there boss man," Dex said, stepping forward slightly, "first off, 'guts and slimy goo' is not very scientific and really doesn't fill me with much confidence in your surgical skills. Second, ew. And third... well. Simmons? You want to help me out with this one?" he finished, looking toward the maroon soldier. Rick nodded and took over.

"Sir, wouldn't it be better if we didn't do that instead of doing it?"

"Dude! So not what I meant!" Dex exclaimed over Sarge's,

"Good thinking Simmons. But no, I like the removing the guts thing so I think we stick with that."

"Yeah, I hate to agree with the suck up, but it really would be better if we _didn't_ do that. See, Simmons doesn't need the operation. He's already gone off the books and obtained mechanical training," Dex said. Rick sighed.

"Which, if I hadn't thought you were joking, I would have brought up before you said you actually liked the idea of removing my internal organs," he said.

"Wait! Do you mean to tell me..." Sarge began, only for Rick to cut him off.

"Yes sir. I really do have mechanical training. And yes, it's completely off the books," Rick stated. Dex noticed Eagle twitch off too the side. He grinned.

"Hey, you wanna ask us what other, unlisted, skills we have Sarge? Like... trick shooting? Or staff fighting?" the weapons specialist asked. Oh yes! That was a definite twitch! Oh man, Eagle _really_ hadn't had enough time to prepare for this, had he? Heh. This is gonna be fun.

"No. I want Simmons to get to work fixing the Warthog ASAP!" Sarge barked. Rick and Dex shared a look, then shrugged and went their separate ways.

/*/

Flowdie listened with rapt attention as Tex told the Blues about O'Malley. "Huh. So _that's_ what happened to Caboose."

"And here I was, thinking you had believed me this whole time," Marley said dryly.

"It's just... some how... more real when it's said like that by Tex herself. And the whole 'I'm gonna kill it' thing... how's that gonna work?"

"It's not," Marley said grimly. "Remember? Doc gets O'Malley in his head after this whole kerfuffle. Honestly, I feel a little sorry for him. However, as tragic as it is, there's nothing we can do. O'Malley is actually rather compatible with Doc. The medic's pacifistic nature almost seems to calm O'Malley's rampant sadism and need for violence. Sure, it makes for one killer split personality, but it kinda... almost... works out," she added. Flowdie sighed.

"I hate it when you make sense like that," he moaned. Marley laughed mirthlessly.

"Me too, Flowdie. Me too."

/*/

Sarge, in his 'infinite wisdom,' decided that Eagle and Dex should guard Rick while he worked on the Warthog. They'd tried to argue, but it was pointless. Sarge was totally sold on the Blood Gulch illusion... and infected with the madness associated with the post. "I sure hope Sarge is right about it taking them months to get the tank back up and running, cause if I see that thing coming, I'm totally freaking out," Eagle said, sitting on a rock. Dex scoffed.

"You've got bullets that can punch through a Warthog's shielding and take out the engine block in your gun Frank. What have you got to be worried about?" he said, casually using Eagle's Project Red nick-name. Eagle stiffened for a moment, then relaxed with a sigh.

"I was right," he said, shifting slightly. Dex grinned, noticing he'd switched his speech pattern.

"Huh. Not as stupid as I thought rookie," he remarked in good humor.

"Oh go easy on the kid!" Rick called from where he was working, though both Frank and Dex could hear he was playing along.

"And why should I? Kid can beat me!" Dex countered with an audible grin.

"Yeah... on the long range but you get inside that the kid's pretty terrible," Rick countered, brutally honest.

"Rick. So nice to know you care," Eagle remarked, bouncing a pebble in his palm. Dex chuckled.

"Uh-oh! Look out Rick, Eagle Eye's got a pebble!" he said. Eagle snorted.

"Yeah, and I know how to use it," he said, flicking his wrist and sending the small stone straight at Dex's forehead.

"Ow," the Agent remarked dryly as the small projectile pinged off his helmet. Eagle sighed.

"That would have hurt if it'd been bigger," he groused. Dex grinned and looped an arm around the youngest member of Red Team.

"Oh, I know," he said 'bracingly.' Eagle sighed, then snapped his head up in shock.

"Is that... what I think it is?" he asked, fear heavy in his voice. Dex looked up and saw...

"Oh Godiva. It's Blue Team's Tank come to kill us all!"

"Oh Godiva! It's true! I'm totally freaking out! I'm freaking out!" Eagle shrieked, dancing around on the spot, shaking his head, looking for escapes routes, finding them, then discarding them. Dex sighed and Rick shook his head.

"I blame you for this," he told his partner. Dex sighed.

"Yeah. Don't blame you for that. So, how we gonna play this?"

"Um..."

/*/

"Please, take evasive action," Shelia told Tucker, who had the misfortune of driving the large tank. Without the tutorial program. Yeah, he just knew this was going to end in tears. And possibly massive property damages.

"You take evasive action!" Tucker countered, panicking ever so slightly as Red base loomed up ahead of him. "Hey Lopez! Help me out! Can't you talk to her?"

"Sorry. I'm not good at talking to beautiful women. I get sweaty," Spanish!Lopez told the cyan soldier.

/*/

Meanwhile, Eagle had decided that, he was just going to do his level best to annoy his fellow Agents. "Well, comrades, it looks like this is the end for us," he said. "Since we're going to die anyway, there's..."

"Oh for the love of deep fried shrimp! We are not going to die!" Dex said suddenly, standing up and dragging the other two with him. "RUN! RUN LIKE THE BATS OF HELL ARE AT YOUR HEELS!" he bellowed, taking off for the base. Eagle and Rick didn't even hesitate to share a look over Dex replacing 'dogs' with 'bats.' They just booked it. They heard what sounding suspiciously like a tank running over the Warthog and Lopez swearing in Spanish. To be perfectly honest, none of the Agents could tell if that last part was their imagination, or reality. And frankly, they didn't want to find out. They all knew, from one experience or another, that you never want to anger an android. It dose not end well. Ever.

"Good golly Miss Molly, what is going on out there?" Eagle heard Sarge asking as he and Rick ran into the main gathering room of the base.

"Sir, the Blues are attacking with their tank! Th... they blew up the warthog. Again," Eagle reported, wincing slightly as he was reminded that their jeep had already been kinda blown up.

"I wonder what jeeps ever did to those guys?" Rick muttered musingly from somewhere to Eagle's left. The sniper thought he heard Dex snickering, but didn't bother trying to check. Darn full face helmets! Never let you know if the other guy is grinning or not.

"The three of us just barely had enough time to get out of there. Right guys?" the not-such-a-rookie asked, looking over his shoulder at the senior Agents.

"Yeah... but I had to snap you out of your 'I'm totally freaking out, we're all gonna die!' haze. Way to go Frankie. Way. To. Go," Dex drawled. Eagle pouted at him under his helmet, though he almost immediately shot a glance over at Sarge to see if he caught the name. He didn't appear to. Sadness. He grinned as a new thought crossed his mind. ' _Oh, this... is gonna be_ fun~!'

/*/

"Gosh darn it, this isn't going very well at all," Tucker lamented, staring at the concrete wall of Red Base, into which he'd crashed trying to stop the tank. "You okay Lopez?" he asked the resident robot. He got a whole lot of Spanish as a result. Had he known how to speak Spanish, he would have known that Lopez had told him that, 'Lopez the Heavy is impervious to injury.' Still, somehow, he got the gist of it. "Whatever, you big show off," Tucker remarked. "How about you Sheila? You still online?"

"Affirmative," the tank replied.

"Ok, we should be close enough to hack into their radio frequency," he said before turning to Lopez, "Lopez, get inside Sheila and do your business," he finished.

"What?" queried Sheila while Lopez remarked in rather flustered sounding Spanish,

"I'm getting very sweaty!"

"Oh my Godiva, remind me to hose you two off when we get back to base," Tucker said, turning back toward Sheila.

/*/

Meanwhile, inside the base, Sarge was... being Sarge. "Well, this is a devil of a picadillo," he said. "Simmons, get on the squawk box and tell command..." he said, but he didn't get further than that as their radios came on with the unmistakeable sound of someone scanning the airwaves followed by the voice of the slightly more annoying Blue guy.

"Hello, Red guys? Are you there?" the voice asked.

"What in buttery goodness? Who is this?" Sarge asked, understandably confused.

"It's me, Tucker. I'm one of the Blue guys. Look, I don't have time to explain, but I need all of you guys to shut off your radios right now," the voice, which Eagle suddenly realized _was_ the guy who had appeared out of a teleporter covered in black gook who was named Tucker, said. Sarge replied in typical Sarge fashion.

"Boy, it'll be a cold day in hell before I take orders from you."

"Look, it's really important, alright?" Tucker pleaded. Eagle frowned. Why would it be? Still, they'd need to change their frequency, now that Tucker had hacked it. "Normally I'd just shoot at you guys and steal your girlfriends, but today's different! I need you to trust me on this."

"Well, I may have spoke too soon. That is an interesting and well-thought-out, not to mention clever and timely might I add, proposition. Simmons, would you care to deliver our rebuttal?" Sarge replied. Rick cleared his throat, wondering what tactic Tucker would try now that Sarge had turned him down.

"Suck it Blue!" he said. Eagle, having never heard this 'rebuttal' until now, took it and ran with it, thoroughly enjoying driving yet another Blood Gultcher spare.

"Yeah, suck it Blue. Now that's what I call an old-school zinger. In your face, Blue dude, in your face!" They heard Tucker sigh, then say,

"Oh man."

"Hey... Sarge?" Dex said, his helmet under his arm, radio disabled. Sarge turned to him, silently asking him what in tarnation did he want? "Ever think that, maybe, there's a reason to the madness?"

"What?!" Sarge asked. Rick blinked, but took off his helmet as well.

"What are you thinking, Dexter?" he asked. Dex shrugged.

"Besides how weird it is for you to call me by my first name? Something has this guy spooked. Spooked enough to have him try to warn us about... something. Maybe... we should take this seriously," he said. Rick chuckled, then froze.

"Wait... Dexter is your first name?"

"You didn't know?" Dex asked, blinking.

"No I... I was just... Huh. Fancy that," Rick replied.

"So your name is... Richard?" the orange solider probed. His maroon teammate nodded. "Huh. What da ya know?"

"Darn it! These guys are not backing down," they heard Tucker mutter, not hearing Rick and Dex's conversation. "Lopez, it looks like we're going to have to go to plan B."

"Si," they heard Lopez's metallic voice say, followed by 'yoink, teindo' and a beat... before he began to 'sing.'

"What in Betty's bloomers is on the radio now?" Sarge demanded. "It sounds like the feral cry of a retarded Mexican Sasquatch!"

"Turn it off! Turn it off please! Godiva, make it stop!" Rick moaned, hearing it come through Sarge's helmet. Dex could hear it from Eagle Eye's radio, and he liked it about as much as Rick. He turned to Eagle with a deathly glare.

"Frank... I swear on Oreos and Krispy Kreame doughnuts... if you even _think_ about liking this crime against music, this... travesty... I will not hesitate to pound you into the ground before throwing you to Marley to be her personal punching bag," the man growled before the rookie could open his mouth. Eagle Eye let out a small 'eep!' and switched off his radio.

"That's it! Can't take anymore!" Sarge said, finally caving. "Everybody! Switch off your radio!"

"But Sarge..." began Eagle.

"That's an order private," Sarge ground out.

"You're the only one who _hasn't_ switched off his radio," the rookie said, pulling off his helmet and pouting at his CO. Sarge stammered for a moment before switching off his radio and removing his helmet. Seeing the uncovered heads of the Reds, Tucker ran off laughing. "It worked!" he said happily, looking down at Lopez and Sheila. "Hey, turn off your radio, quick!" he ordered. The robot quickly shut off the music, switched off his radio, and got back inside the tank.

/*/

While Tucker was returning to Blue Base to see how things had gone for Tex, Church, and Caboose, Doc was waking up with the mother of all headaches in the cave system in the canyon wall. Vic from Command was jabbering in his ear. Something about... twenty cc's of what the heck is going on. He only got the 'what's happening down there?' bit. Honestly, he was of the opinion that Vic just liked to hear himself talk. "What happened?" Doc asked with a yawn. His radio scratched and Vic's distorted voice spoke in his ear.

"Hey, you tell me dude. One minute we're talking about a hole in the wall, the next thing I know you turned into Grumps McGurt. It sounded like you needed a lozenge, threatened to eat my children. Not very cool dude," he said. Doc winced. That... really didn't sound like him. At all. He knew what cannibalism did to people who practiced it. It wasn't anything good. And children? From a guy he had no problem with and had never met in person? Yeah, no.

"Jeez, did I really? I'm sorry. Something went wrong with my radio and I heard this weird beeping, honking..." he said, only to get cut off by Vic going on about how there was no offense taken and he didn't have kids. Along with... a lot of stuff Doc really didn't need to know. Finally, he got a word in edgewise. "Look, I found something weird here at Blood Gulch Outpost number one."

"Roger that, what did you find?" Vic asked.

"It's... it's like a... it's like a thing," Doc said, already mentally cursing at his sluggish mind. Whatever had knocked him out had messed him up good. If Vic hadn't told him he'd acted oddly, he'd have thought someone had mugged him. Only... the pain in his head wasn't like blunt force trauma. It was... everywhere at once. Of course, Vic wasn't helping.

"It's like a thing? Okay dude, thank you for the update. I'll be sure to alert the chief of staff."

"Sorry."

"Move us to Def-con one."

"I'm just still a little dazed. It's a big thing. It's purple. It's a... it's a big purple thing."

"Use your words dude," Vic said, sounding more patronizing than sarcastic now. Doc frowned.

"Look, I don't know. It looks like some kind of alien artifact. Do the aliens have, like, a home base or something here?" he asked, only realizing how stupid it was to ask the _man in the spaceship_ if there was an alien base _on the planet goodness alone knew how far away_. Seriously, whatever got him got him _good_.

"I don't know dude. Why don't I just consult my extraterrestrial travel guide for ya?" Vic asked, now half way between sarcastic and patronizing. Doc decided, he didn't like when people used that tone with him. "Oh look, they had a great series of alien bed and breakfasts there. Lucky you."

"Never mind," Doc said with a sigh. He didn't know why he bothered with calling command. Vic was, to put it bluntly, a jerk. "I'll just figure it out myself."

"Nothing about big purple things though," Vic continued on, as though he hadn't heard Doc. "Maybe it's some kind of alien vehicle." Doc switched off the radio, ended the conversation.

"Man, that guy is such a jerk. The next time he talks to me like that, I'm going to tell him to go straight to H E double hockey sticks," he muttered to himself, then immediately felt guilty. "Oh, I really shouldn't talk like that. That's not very nice," he said, then suddenly, it wasn't him talking anymore.

"If I ever meet him, I'm taking his eyes as souvenirs."

"Whoa, that was unlike me. I must be stressed out. Time for yoga!" Doc remarked, weirded out by the experience and trying to find his way back to normalcy.

/*/

Back at Red Base, Dex was having some fun with Eagle. "I wonder if there's anyone who could jump from the floor to the roof," he said. The sniper scoffed.

"I bet you I can!" he shot back.

"I bet you can't."

"What are you two talkn' about?!" Sarge asked.

"Oh nothing, just some male bonding stuff," Dex said airily. Sarge looked between Dex and Eagle, then shrugged.

"Alright. Carry on!" he said, then continued on his way.

"I bet you I can make it," Eagle said. Dex grinned under his helmet.

"Bet you can't~!"

"Five bucks says I can," Eagle challenged. Dex whipped out five dollars and held out his hand, into which Eagle slapped his five dollars. Dex went to the roof while Eagle prepared for his first jump.

"Alright. Try it!" Dex called down to him. Eagle nodded and jumped. And jumped. And again.

"Up! Up!" he chanted, as though that would get him more height. Dex shook his head, chuckling at the rookie.

"Eagle, there's no way you can jump that high," he said, laughing mentally at the rookie.

"Yes. I can," Eagle rebutted, jumping again. "Yes I can!"

"What the heck is he doing?" Rick asked Dex, drawn by the sound.

"Losing a bet," Dex replied matter of factually. Eagle chose that moment to let out a groan of disappointment.

"Aw, I almost got it that time. Are you sweating yet sucker?" he asked. Dex scoffed.

"No... wait wait wait... yes, but only because of how stinking hot it is here. Keep trying, maybe try flapping your arms," he said. Rick shook his head at the orange soldier.

"Dex... you're crazy... you know that... right?" he said. Dex chuckled darkly.

"Oh, I know all right. But you know, we're all a little mad here... right?" Rick shook his head yet again.

"You aren't smoking in your helmet... are you?" he asked out of curiosity. Dex chuckled, turning halfway back toward the still jumping Eagle.

"Nah. I... actually haven't smoked since Marley picked me up. Probably because all my cigarettes mysteriously disappeared in the night. Weird... huh?" he said, amusement in his tone.

"Hum. Perhaps Marley stole them," Rick said. Dex chuckled.

"Sounds like something she'd do," he agreed.

"Yeah. Say... do you actually eat as much as Sarge thinks you do?" Rick asked, truly curious. To his great surprise, Dex busted out laughing.

"Nah, I just like messing with him. I keep a bag of snacks in my pack just so I can pull something new out every time Sarge comes stomping over to me. It's really quite amusing, even if I can't see his face. Oh! I bet it's priceless!" the weapons expert said. Rick shook his head at the man.

"That's almost as bad as Eagle's purposeful annoyance."

"No, ya don't say?" Dex exclaimed mockingly. Rick sighed.

"Right. It's the same basic idea, isn't it?"

"Yep!" *CRASH BANG SMASH *

"Ow! Hey! Who left the Grif-Ball gear out where someone could trip over it?! I think I broke something," Eagle called up from where he'd fallen. "Hey Simmons..."

"OI! If anyone's a medic here, it's me!" Dex called down to the rookie. Eagle gulped as he envisioned the amber glare Dex had to be giving him.

"You guys give me a head ache," Rick moaned.

"Grif, Simmons the Mechanic, I just got off the horn with command. I'm afraid we have a situation," Sarge said, coming up behind his two senior Privates.

"Aw, don't tell me they canceled the holiday party again, those cheap skates! All I wanted was one night of carefree dancing but no~! I ask you, when is it going to be Simmons' turn? When?!" Rick ranted. Dex was torn between a 'are you an idiot?' silence and a 'dude, what?' silence. He was also torn between whether or not to laugh. He ended up somewhere in the middle.

"Uh, actually, the problem is with Lopez," Sarge said after sharing a quick look with Dex.

"Don't tell me, the consulate general from Spanish land is coming, and without Lopez, we don't have anyone to translate. Unless... Rick! Can you speak Spanish?" Dex said.

"One, there's no such thing as Spanish land, you idiot. And two, no. I do not speak Spanish, though I can usually tell if the conversation is going in a 'I'm not going to shoot you' way or an 'if you don't freaking shut up and give me all your money I will blow your brains out' kind of way," Rick responded.

"Duly noted, duly noted," Dex said with a nod. Sarge was left there wondering... what the heck? "But Spanish land is too real. They have those... those water slides. And all that salsa."

"No. They don't," Rick countered smoothly.

"Well, guess you would know," Dex rejoined smugly.

"What? What's that supposed to mean?!" Rick asked, irritated.

"Well, you are of... Latino persuasion," Dex said.

"For the last time, I'm DUTCH. IRISH!" Rick ground out. Dex shrugged.

"Hey, don't let your fiery Latin temper get out of control. I was just trying to make a point," he said.

"Can it idiot!" Sarge shouted, trying to regain control of the situation. "We've got a pot on the front burner, and it's a boiling over! I've just learned that command implanted Lopez with secret plans detailing the next phase of our operations. Do you have any idea what this means?!" he added, explaining what had him in such a state... not that he wasn't always like that, but eh. Details.

"I.. uh... uh... Rick? You wanna take this one?" Dex asked, turning to his companion.

"Dex... did you honestly decide not to listen?" Rick asked. Dex grinned, though Rick couldn't quite make it out. Man, he loved messing with people. "If you weren't listening, what the heck were you thinking about?"

"Certainly not water slides, I can tell you that much. Or salsa," Dex said. Rick groaned, but Sarge decided to carry on, thinking his soldiers were always like this. Which, they kinda were... when not on missions. He also conveniently decided to ignore them using different names.

"What it means is that if we don't get back Lopez before the Blues uncover our secret plans, we'll be up pooper creek without a paddle," Sarge 'explained.' Dex couldn't refrain from commenting with a loud,

"Ew! Ih... that's gross!"

"I'm talking lost in a forest of filth without a compass! Swimming in a river of sick with no floaties on! Driving blind in a..."

"Sir! I think we get the picture," Rick interrupted, "the very, very, _disturbing_ picture." ' _That is also quite inaccurate. I'd like to believe we could wipe out the Blues quite easily if needed_ ,' the Agent thought to himself, but wisely stayed quiet.

"Ya sure? I could go on," Sarge offered.

"I'm sure ya could, but no," Dex intervened. "Really."

/*/

"Looking a little green there, Flowdie. Need a barf bag?" Marley asked, popping open a soda, a wet towel draped over her shoulders to keep her white shirt dry after her shower. Flowdie shook his head and took the offered water.

"Red's just... a little..."

"Touched in the head? Disturbed? Wacked out? Sorry mate, but we're all that way. War has a way of messing with your head," Marley said, sinking into a chair and putting up her heels.

"Yeah. I know. But... still!"

"Um."

"You ever feel like... we're missing something?"

"All the time, Flowdie. All the time."

"Tha..."

"It's called 'innocence,' Flowdie. And we lost ours long ago."

"Not what I meant. And you know it."

"I know. But it still fits," Marley remarked, one of her dark moods striking. Flowdie sighed and trooped off to his bunk. "So does 'sanity,'" the woman said sadly to the cool, still air, a single tear rolling down her cheek as she settled in for a good rest, watching the poor Reds and Blues down below.

/?/

A/N: Okay, so... this is a monster chapter. Really, it is. And I was using Netfilx as a reference instead of the youtube webisodes for most of it, so I just kept going and... yeah. If you're wondering why there's not such a gap where the Blue's action should be, I'm laboring under the impression that the Blues are doing their stuff at the same time, or nearly, as the Reds. So... yeah. Anyway, hope you liked it and stay tuned for more Project Red... stuff. Because, it's already craziness, being Red vs Blue and... I'm gonna stop and go watch some Hawaii 5-0 now. Mahalo and Aloha!

A/N 2: Ah, the revelation of the truth behind Project Red. This one was so much fun to write. Minor edits, mostly spelling. 8/18/16


	23. Episode 21

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB.

 **Episode 21:** Capture the... Sniper?

Flowdie couldn't help wondering... "What the heck is with Blue Team?" Marley couldn't help but laugh.

"The same thing that's wrong with the rest of us Flowdie!"

"Yeah but... a love triangle with a tank, an android, and a human? That's just... that's messed up."

"Why do you think Tucker described it as 'disgusting?'" Marley inquired, far too cherry in Flowdie's opinion. Then something from down in the canyon caught his attention.

"Wait... what did Caboose just wail?"

"'Shelia~! Come back to me~! I made you a muffin~!'" Marley parroted with a grin before falling backwards in laughter.

"Yeah but... how would a tank eat a muffin?" Flowdie asked, extremely perplexed by Caboose's outcry.

"Not a clue!" Marley sang gleefully. A moment later and Sheila declared that she and Lopez were forming a robot army and would no longer serve the humans. This caused a rather amusing reaction in Flowdie.

"AHH! The machine overlords cometh!" he cried, leaping behind his chair. Marley cackled, then sobered and said, very seriously,

"Technically, it's one overlord and one over _lady_. Get your terms straight."

"Overlady isn't even a word!" Flowdie countered, pointing the Finger of Doom at the love of his life.

"Sure it is. I used it."

"GAH! You made me miss the rest of what Tucker said!"

"Winning~!"

/*/

On top of Red Base, Sarge was attempting to form a plan of attack. Or, rather, 'rescue' as they were attempting to steal back Lopez. Who, incidentally, held 'orders from Command!' Rick, Dex, and Eagle had a bet going on if those 'orders' would be 'try to win!' 'attack the Blues!' or, Dex's personal favorite and his bet, 'try to do better!' "It's very simple. We'll use a flea flicker maneuver with a running gun two-by-two approach. Tactical Ops will be... aw heck, who am I kiddin'? Grif, Eagle, just go stand in the way of their bullets while me and Simmons the Mechanic sneak around back to grab Lopez," Sarge said, slumping with a sigh at the end. Rick and Dex shared a look. They'd used those very same maneuver names on various missions.

'I wonder why he's still pretending,' Rick signed to Dex.

'Because he hates my guts and thinks you're a talentless Yes Man,' Dex signed back. Rick sighed. Dex was probably right. He was often right.

"Sounds like a plan!" Eagle cheered overly happy. Even as Dex turned to him with a sharp,

"No it doesn't," he had to wonder if this was just Eagle's brand of sarcasm and he was going to follow up with something biting before he got cut off. "How about this time, we try something that _doesn't_ involve me getting shot at or run over," Dex added.

"Would electrified be okay?" Rick asked 'helpfully.'

"NO!" Dex said sharply.

"Well, I'm out of ideas," Rick said, turning back to Sarge.

"Look. Instead of just running straight into enemy gunfire like we usually do, why don't we try some reconnaissance this time?" Dex offered sensibly.

"You mean like spy stuff?! That would be cool! I could wear, a spy tuxedo!" Eagle enthused.

"No," Sarge interjected gruffly, though Eagle seemed quite content to ignore his CO.

"With a hidden spy camera," Eagle went on, once again ignoring the 'no' he got, this time from Rick, "inside a tiny spy bowtie!" Dex decided, it was his turn to give the excitable soldier a flat 'no.' "Or! I could wear a flower on my lapel..."

"I said no!" Sarge tried, but was denied yet again as Eagle could not be stopped.

"... the sprays water in people's faces!" the sniper continued with a laugh.

"Shut up Eagle Eye!" Rick ground out, fingers twitching toward his knife.

"No," Eagle said, turning to him before continuing with his little spy fantasy, though Rick was sure the idgit was grinning under his helmet. Evil little prankster! "Secret spy liquid! That would be awesome!" Eagle said, laughing as he finally finished.

"NO!" Sarge and Rick both yelled while Dex said,

"Maybe!" There was a moment of stunned silence before he said, "Uh... I mean 'noo~.'"

"Oh come on! I could be Double O Doughnut!"

"You mean Dooughnut?" Rick asked, emphasizing the 'oo' sound.

"With a license to thrill! Or be thrilled!" Eagle said, skillfully ignoring Rick. It was a talent that all Blood Gulcher's honed to a fine art... toward pretty much everything.

"Alright. Since you're both so into the idea; Grif, Eagle, you're on Recon. Find us a way to break into their base and report back on the double," Sarge said. Dex groaned, though he was grinning behind his helmet.

"Great. More time alone with the idiot," he groused. Eagle all-too-easily played along.

"Grif Grif Grif! Let's pretend we're wearing super spy jet packs!" he said excitedly. Dex sighed gustily, only for Eagle to correct his 'jet pack sound effect.' Yeah. It was gong to be a long five minutes. Once they were out of sight of the Red Base, Dex switched to Agent Mode, Eagle all too happy to follow his lead. "Yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyeeeeeeeeeeeesssssssssssssssss~!" the now burgundy soldier hissed, barely refraining from jumping for joy, "I'm freeeeeeeee~!"

"You're welcome. Now come on, help me find a way past these guys so we can get our crazy robot back so we can get those oh-so-secret secret plans and possibly prevent Sarge from having a full on mental breakdown resulting in all of us dying. Likely horribly. In a hail of bullets. Poorly aimed bullets," Dex said. Frank sighed, unlimbering his rifle.

"Yeah yeah, rain on my parade why don't you," he said, looking out toward the Blue base.

"It's part of the job description. 'Rain on everyone's parade,'" Dex quipped, causing the burgundy Agent to snort.

"And which job is that? Weapons expert, Senior Red Agent, or lazy idiot?" Frank asked. Dex cuffed him lightly.

"Agent Daddy. Now, since you're better at sneaking around, leave me your rifle and see if you can't find us a way in," he said before pushing the younger man further along the canyon wall. Frank shook his head at his partner, but handed over the gun and moved along.

"Agent Daddy my Betty," he muttered, referring to the rifle Marley had given him, which was a good deal better than the one he was currently leaving with Dex.

"I heard that!" Dex shouted back.

"Hawk eared crazy man," Frank whispered.

"I do not have hawk ears!"

"THEN HOW THE HECK DO YOU KEEP HEARING ME!?"

"We have helmet mics idiot. Read the manual."

"... There's a manual?"

"Just... find us an opening!"

/*/

"Wait... Caboose has gotten his head stuck in the freezer before?" Flowdie remarked from where he'd been watching the Blue Team. Again.

"It's Caboose. In all the time we've been observing Blood Gulch, I would have thought that you would have learned that with Caboose, stupid stuff is an everyday occurrence and stupid insanity is a given," Marley remarked dryly, finalizing a mission report.

"Alright alright! Then what about the 'robot army?'" Marley paused and looked up, a look of concentration on her face, before nodding with a hum.

"... Plot point. Pretty sure it's a plot point."

"Really?" Flowdie asked, puzzled. Marley turned to him with furrowed brow.

"Hey. You ever heard of a Freelancer who had to deal with a robot uprising between a tank and a repair droid?" she asked.

"Fair point. But... how is it a plot point?" Flowdie countered, crossing his arms. Marley sighed and turned to face him fully, crossing her own arms and leaning back in her seat.

"Well, Reggie and O'Malley use the 'robot army' mentality of Lopez to their advantage. And... well... a lot of stuff happens. Didn't I tell you about all this?" she told him, gesturing and sitting forward as she got more animated.

"Um... most of it, yeah. But hearing you talk about it and seeing it play out are two different things."

"Fair point, fair point. Let us watch on!"

"Let's."

/*/

Meanwhile, Doc was arguing with the voice in his head. "Ya know, I really think we should try a non-violent approach to resolve this," he pleaded, then The Other took over and spoke through him.

"I agree, except replace the word 'non' with 'extremely' and after the word 'violent' include the phrase 'blood explosion extraordinaire!'" he said, laughing evilly at the end. Eagle, who was circling around to try and find a way into Blue Base undetected, heard the laughter and stealthily crept closer.

"We can't so this!" Doc protested, not noticing the approaching Agent, "they're gonna find out! They'll find out about us! The machines! Everything!" By now, Eagle was highly curious about what Doc was whining about. He was glad he had already activated his armor's Agent Mode. It would save a few questions should Doc see him. The Other laughed manically while Eagle frowned, thinking that Doc was acting rather suspicious.

"I will rip out their guts and feast on their entrails!" The sniper's eyes went wide as he thought,

' _That doesn't sound like the Purple Mouse at all! What is going on here?!_ '

"But I'm a vegetarian!" Doc protested. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. The Other simply laughed his evil laugh. "Look, we can't just sabotage their equipment! That's rude!"

' _Sabotage?! That's certainly not Doc's idea. But who's he arguing with?_ ' Eagle wondered, staring wide eyed at the one-man drama playing out below his current position.

"I will devour their hearts and crap out their souls!"

' _That... isn't physically possible. And sounds even worse than sabotage. Doc... what's going on with you? And does Marley know about this? So many questions, so little answers~! And perhaps... too little time. This isn't good, no sir, not good at all_ ,' Eagle mused, beginning to creep away.

"They will all taste oblivion!"

' _No thanks~!_ ' the Agent thought, still slowly backing away.

"Which tastes just like Red Bull!"

' _I like Red Bull! It give you wings._ '

"Which is disgusting!" The Other spit out.

' _Hey!_ '

"All will perish!" The Other said, then proceeded to laugh some more.

' _All? Wait... that includes me! Oh man, I have to report this to Marley!_ ' Eagle realized, turning back and jogging away. He was too late to see Doc turn around, fear in every line of his body and call out in a weak voice,

"Hello? Who's there? Please help me! I'm scared of myself!" If he had... this might have been a rather different story.

/*/

As Eagle neared the cave system's exit, he shifted back to Standard mode, planning to run back to base. Only, what he saw was... "Wait... this is Blue Base!" he remarked, staring at the base in surprise.

"Eagle... How did you get over there?" Dex asked over the radio.

"Ya know... the caves are a strange place, my orange friend," Eagle replied, staring at the enemy base. "I really wish I had a cloaking unit," he muttered to himself.

"I'll bet you do," Tucker's voice said behind him.

"Oh no," Eagle groaned as he turned to see Tucker and Caboose behind him, guns aimed at his center mass.

"Oh yeah," Tucker drawled.

"Ha! You owe me fifty bucks!" crowed Dex. Eagle snarled, backing away.

"Now is not the time to be collecting bet money, Dex!" he hissed.

"Who are you talking to?" Tucker asked, poking him with his gun.

"On your own man. Aloha!" Dex said, cutting the connection.

"Traitor," Eagle hissed before Caboose managed to knock him out.

/*/

"Wow. Caboose actually knocked Eagle out. I didn't know he had it in him," Marley remarked. Flowdie was off to the side, laughing maniacally.

"Soon. Soon my Blues shall take over the world! Yes, soon, my minions, soon our time shall come!" he cackled. Marley just shook her head at the man.

"The Blood Gulch madness has truly taken hold of you," she said sadly.

/*/

Back in the gulch, Eagle was waking up to an odd situation. "So, they sent a female assassin to try and kill us. Very clever, not not clever enough. We're immune to your feminine wiles. Unless you want to date one of us," Tucker said. Eagle blinked.

"Female? I'm not a girl. I just have light red armor!" he denied.

"How is that pink armor anyway? Looks comfortable~!" Caboose said.

' _I can have fun with this,_ ' Eagle thought, then grinned under his helmet before replying, "I used to really hate it, but it's kinda grown on me. My old armor chafed my thighs something awful."

/*/

Meanwhile, Dex had informed the rest of the Reds what had happened to their sniper. "How could this happen?!" Sarge lamented. Rick and Dex shared a look.

"Should we keep the illusion up?" Dex asked. Rick shrugged.

"The only thing holding it now is our armor," he said. Sarge frowned, though his soldiers couldn't see it.

"What in Sam Hill are you two yammering about?" he asked. Rick and Dex shared a nod.

"Nothing sir! Just quoting a show we saw the other day," Dex answered, the two Agents having agreed to maintain the illusion, just in case Sarge wasn't Red. As unlikely as that was. The man hummed, then seemed to just brush it off. Rick and Dex looked at each other again, then shrugged. They had been victims of 'Blood Gulch vision' for years, so their Sargent being a victim as well, wasn't outside the realms of possibility. Sure Blood Gulch itself was close to being outside the realms of possibility, but still.

"Now. How could this happen?!" Sarge cried once more.

"Meh, it's okay sir. It was a strong plan, Eagle's just bad with directions," Rick answered. Dex snorted.

"Yeah. Remember his first day here?" he asked. Rick chuckled.

"Poor idiot couldn't tell which way our base was... even after we had just turned up!" he said.

"Yeah, or that other time? With the bandolier?"

"Ha! That one was priceless!"

"Settle down ladies!" Sarge cut in, not following the conversation at all, "we need a new strategy and we need it fast!"

"Eh, Eagle's tougher than you think Sarge. I doubt anything the Blues can do could manage to break him," Rick said with a shrug while Dex chuckled.

"He thrives on the misery of others and lives to make everyone around him as uncomfortable as possible. And that pink armor? A deadly weapon of underestimation. We don't have a thing to worry about, Sarge," he said.

"He's far to young and naïve to last for long!" Sarge said, apparently ignoring Dex.

"It's the armor, isn't it? I knew I should have pushed for the pruce!" the ignored soldier lamented. Rick shook his head, but reiterated what Dex had said.

"The boy doesn't even see the entertainment value in being tortured! Oh these kids today!" Sarge shouted.

"Do you think he's suffering from neurosis or something? Maybe we should have our friend in the sky run a brain scan," Dex asked Rick, who just shook his head at his teammates. ' _My life man. My life._ '

/*/

Eagle was having fun, talking with Caboose and running verbal circles around Tucker. He heard the cyan soldier talking with Church. "So how's it going Tucker. Got anything useful out of the prisoner?" Church asked.

"I figured he was here to steal back Lopez, but he won't give us anything... except a list of crock pot recipes. Could that be useful?"

' _You have no idea, Blue,_ ' Eagle thought with a grin, remembering cozy Sunday afternoons back on the farm. His grandmother's crock pot recipes were pure gold!

"Do we have a crock pot?" asked Church

"No. Caboose made a trade with that annoying guy from Blue Command. He swapped it for a mystery box," Tucker said, sounding a little defeated.

' _Well that was stupid,_ ' Eagle thought to himself, mentally shaking his head at the folly of the man in front of him. ' _Crock pots are way better than mystery boxes._ '

"What was in the mystery box?" Church wanted to know. So did Eagle, so he listened carefully.

"A hundred and forty jars of mayonnaise."

' _WHY WOULD ANYONE NEED THAT MUCH MAYO?!_ ' the sniper wondered, eyes going wide behind the orange visor of his helmet.

"Well that's a good trade."

' _NO IT'S NOT!_ ' Eagle raged. Why would anyone want a whole bunch of mayonnaise when they could have a crock pot?

"Yeah, doubles as great sun screen," Tucker said.

"How did you...? Never mind."

' _My thoughts exactly, Church. My thoughts exactly._ '

"Listen, I think I've come up with a plan for Lopez and our new prisoner, to get an upper hand on the Reds," Church continued. Eagle narrowed his eyes. That didn't sound good for him, or his fun at Blue Base. "The plan does not involve mayonnaise."

' _Wait. What?_ ' Eagle wondered, bamboozled by the oddity of the Blues. ' _Sure the Reds aren't much better, but hey! It's the crazy I know._ '

"Dang it! I knew there would be a catch!" Tucker remarked. Eagle shook his head slightly and focused back on his game with Caboose.

"That was fun!" the soldier said. "Okay, okay, your turn. Truth, or dare?"

"Hummm... truth," Eagle said.

"Okay. Tell me all of the Reds' secret plans!" Caboose said. Eagle blinked.

"Aww~! You tricked me!" he said, mildly impressed despite himself. Caboose was a simple soul, but he could be sneaky when he wanted to be, using a game to get information. "You Blue guys are so smart!" Eagle said, playing along and developing his cover just a little more. Apparently, it was hard to hear sarcasm in his voice. Of course, this was milked for all it was worth. "Okay, now listen closely. Our biggest secret is..." he said, planning on revealing that they played Black Jack for Oreoes and root beer when he suddenly felt really weird, like something was taking control of his body, spreading from the very back of his mind. He considered fighting it, but then noticed it wasn't shifting through his memories, in fact it seemed to be studiously _avoiding_ his memories. He wasn't sure how he could tell, but he could. Noticing that, he decided to just let it go. If he wasn't in control, they couldn't question him and if they couldn't question him, they essentially got nothing. If whatever was controlling him started doing something he really didn't like, he'd fight for control. But not before.

/*/

Dex was on sentry duty when he saw the Blue team running toward the base in plain view... with Eagle Eye. Unbound. He shook his head. "Do they really think that'll work?" he asked Rick. The maroon solider looked out, saw what Dex had, then shook his head at them.

"Sad thing is... they probably do," he said.

"Think they stripped Eagle and wore his armor?"

"Nah. Weird thing is... I can see all the living members... wait. You don't think that thing about the ghost was true... do you?" Dex stared out at the approaching soldiers, studying how Eagle was moving, then sighed.

"Ya know... I think the ghost thing might be true after all. Drat. That means I owe Burgundy ten dollars," he said.

"Hello inferior Red Squad!" called Tucker.

"We would like to talk to you about," 'Eagle' began before Caboose popped up in front of him, shouting something that sounded like 'heckstack!'

"What is a 'heckstack?'" Dex asked Rick. The other soldier shrugged, shaking his head.

"No clue."

"Huh. I thought you might have one," Dex said, then shrugged. That was when Sarge came up on base.

"What the? Eagle! What is this?!" Sarge yelled.

"Shush! You'll confuse them!" Rick hissed.

"Yeah, they're hard enough to understand without you making them confused," Dex added, and was ignored by default.

"We... I mean they... would like to negotiate a surrender... to us. No wait! To them!" 'Eagle' yelled. Dex shook his head.

"Ghosts. Why did it have to be ghosts?" he muttered.

"What's this business? The Blues are giving up?" Sarge asked, understandably confused. "I smell a trap. Or a rat. Or a rat and a trap. Don't accept it Simmons!"

"Wasn't gonna," the maroon soldier muttered, then stepped up to the edge of the base and called out, "you can't surrender Blues! We haven't attacked you yet! Go home and wait for us to attack, then you can surrender!"

"Wait, if we accept, that would mean we have two surrenders and they would have none. That means we win!" Dex said. Rick blinked.

"Win what?" he asked. Dex faltered, having lost track of his train of thought.

"I... I don't know. The war? Or something... right?"

"Sometimes, you can be a right idiot," Rick said, shaking his head at the other man.

"But I can be a genius at others!" Dex countered with a hidden grin. Rick just sighed, shaking his head, and turned his attention back to what was happening. It appeared that whoever was in control of Eagle's armor was having trouble with his pronouns and couldn't order his thoughts properly because of it. They watched as the cyan solider slowly turned to 'Eagle.' Dex swore he heard the man ask, 'Are you becoming retarded?' It was nearly too much and Dex was sent into a minor coughing fit trying to keep the chuckles down.

"What should we do sir?" Rick asked, ignoring the wheezing Dex beside him and focusing on the main point of 'Eagle's rambling. 'Accept the surrender and you get back the robot and your sniper.'

"I'm torn between my intense distrust of the blue team, and the plans stored in my favorite robotic creation!" Sarge said in his usual rough voice, which was halfway between yelling and speaking.

"Hey! Eagle left his sniper rifle with me. Rick! Take it and shoot at the Blues! Then they'll be under attack, and can surrender!" Dex said, tossing the aforementioned rifle to his teammate.

"Why not shoot yourself?" Rick asked. The pair ignored Sarge's chuckle and following 'there's an idea! Good thinking Simmons!'

"Because, Sarge is so into the Blood Gulch illusion, even if I came up with the most amazing plan ever, of all time, he'd still say I was an idiot. But if _you_ propose the _same plan_ , Sarge will accept it. So, if you would?" Dex said, motioning toward the Blues, a might bit impatient. Rick shrugged, brought the rifle up, and shot.

"OW! Mother of Fudge!" they heard Tucker scream, indicating a direct hit.

"Okay. _Now_ you're under attack. Go ahead and surrender Blue," Rick said, still sighting down the rifle.

"Good thinking Simmons!" Sarge praised.

"See? Sarge never takes me _or_ my ideas seriously," Dex said, crossing his arms. Rick sighed.

"Yeah. Duly noted Grif. Duly noted," he said, feeling for his brother-in-arms.

"They surrender!" 'Eagle' yelled. The Red's, however, saw the cyan soldier readying his gun and could just pick out, or perhaps Marley was re-routing audio from The Ghost to their helmets, the man saying, 'Fudge this, I'm pissed. Let's fight.' Dex began to shake ever so slightly while Rick smirked dangerously, reaching down with one hand to finger a knife belted to his thigh.

"Let them come. There is one soldier yet in Red Base that still draws blood," the IT wizard muttered darkly.

"Really? You're using modified LotR quotes now?" Dex asked, pulling out his favorite pistol. Rick shrugged.

"Just relieving tension, Orange. Just relieving tension," he said.

"Now that you have been thoroughly humiliated by our superior military strategy, we demand the return of our robot and our pink private!" Sarge called out to the Blues, skillfully ignoring his other two privates.

"Okay, but there's one catch!" 'Eagle' called back.

"Oh what now?" Dex moaned.

"Sarge, they want you to build two robots for their team. One for each prisoner they're releasing," 'Eagle' finished.

"Hey! That wasn't part of the agreement!" Rick yelled back angrily.

"Hey, calm down there Double Dutch. Let's consider this carefully. Anyone else wondering why we're negotiating with Eagle Eye? An _unbound_ Eagle Eye?" Dex said curiously.

"Hey yeah. Sarge, isn't it odd that we're negotiating with an unbound Eagle Eye? Or, ya know, Eagle in general?" Rick said, turning to Sarge, who had once again 'not heard' Dex. The older soldier hummed, mulling it over, then shrugged.

"They must have made it clear it was in his best interest to play along," he said. Dex sighed and tapped out, 'Ask him if he's going to build the robots,' against his thigh. Rick rolled his eyes, but understood Dex not wanting to waste his breath on someone who didn't care to listen.

"You gonna build the robots?"

"Hum. I don't know. I don't like this."

"Neither do we... er. I. But... what could they want two robots for? If I'm right... they should only need one," Rick said, watching Dex's fingers carefully.

"What kind of model did you have in mind!" Sarge yelled toward the Blues.

"Sarge?"

"It can't hurt to have information, Simmons."

"I guess make them just like Lopez, only just a shell, no intelligence," the 'Eagle' called back. "Oh and no Spanish! And a bigger switch!"

"Okay!" Sarge called back while Dex and Rick shared a look, signing to each other.

'Why would he want a bigger switch?' they asked as one.

'No clue man,' they again signed as one, grinning under their helmets.

"You got a deal! Meet us at the center of the canyon at 0600 and we'll make the exchange!" Sarge yelled, not seeing the silent conversation, such as it was, behind his back.

"Deal!" 'Eagle' shouted back.

/*/

The foreign presence left Eagle, making him let out some rather amusing sounds. As full awareness came back to him, he decided to act as though he had no knowledge of what had just happened. "Whoa. Where am I? What happened?" he asked.

"We were just talking to your friends," Caboose said, "but you are going to stay with us now for a while."

"Oh are we going to have a sleep over? Because that would be sweet!" Eagle asked, playing up the 'stupid and niave' angle. It worked with the pink armor. Tough and gritty would be reserved for his burgundy armor. It worked better there.

"You're a nice lady," Caboose said after a moment of silence as he processed what Eagle had said. For his part, the sniper blinked while mentally screaming that he was a man and when he was given the go ahead, he was going to gun for Caboose first for all these slights to his manhood.

"Oh Blue Team!" Sarge sang out, causing Eagle to turn toward the base, mental snarling still going full steam ahead. "Before ya go, maybe we should talk about optional equipment on your new robots." Eagle smirked. There it was. Sarge's 'grand plan to defeat the Blues.' He knew Sarge wouldn't just _give_ Blue Team perfectly good robots.

"What optional equipment?" Tucker, being the only Blue currently within earshot with two brain cells to rub together, called back.

"All you said was you wanted a body. We didn't talk about features~!"

"Like what?"

"Ya know, like undercoating. Extended warranty. Features man, come on! Like, do you want them to be able to use both arms at once?"

"Of course!"

"Asynchronous arm movement is~... optional!" Sarge called. Eagle chuckled quietly.

' _He's really having fun with this, isn't he?_ ' the sniper pondered, leaning against the tree in the middle of the canyon.

"What?! Ah man, I told Church they would try to mess us up! What about the feet?"

"Do you want feet?"

"Yeah we want the feet!"

"Sorry! Feet are optional!" Eagle was really fighting not to laugh. Sarge was really having fun with this, he could tell.

"What's on the bottom of it's legs?!"

"Legs are optional."

"Aw man what a rip off."

"Options are optional!" Eagle thought he saw Dex lean against the 'walls' on top of the base. He was fairly sure that, if he was, it was to keep himself from falling over from repressed laughter. Dex had one heck of a 'funny bone.'

"What _isn't_ optional?!"

"You look like a nice guy, don't worry, we'll work something out. Have you thought about financing? How's your credit? I can offer you a free high quality pair of mudflaps! And a luuuuuuube job! Ya won't be disappointed! I've been told my luube jobs are fantastic!""

"I thought it was Eagle's job to make those kinds of jokes?" Dex's voice said over the helmet mics. Eagle grinned.

"Aw, let him have his fun. I'm rather enjoying this," he said.

"Ah! So, back in the saddle huh?"

"Yeah. Tell ya all about it later, okay?"

"Deal. Don't forget," Dex said, before he cut the connection.

"No thank you! I just want two full robots, with all their limbs and armor and weapons, but without the artificial intelligence!" Tucker called back. Eagle snickered quietly to himself and slid up to the already retreating Tucker.

"You may want to get that in writing man. Sarge is slippery ya know. Comes from all those luuube jobs," he said. He drew immense pleasure in the jump he got in return. A few more low chuckles escaped before he sped up a little to draw abreast with Caboose.

"You enjoyed that, didn't you?" Marley asked him.

"Hello Ghost lady!" Eagle said cheerily, giggling when he saw Tucker edge away from him slightly. "Yes, I am enjoying myself immensely!"

"Well, I'll be watching out for you, but it wouldn't be wise for us to keep the radios open for long. O'Malley the aggressive A.I. is on the loose."

"Oh yeah! Thanks for reminding me. I think it's with Doc."

"Doc? The medic who can't do diddly?"

"Yep."

"I see. Nothing we can do about it right now. Just be cautious okay? No telling what will happen on that front."

"You'll let the others know?"

"Yeah. Ghost out."

/?/

A/N: And Season 2 draws to a close. Hope there's enough originality in here to be interesting for long term fans.

A/N 2: Ah Eagle. He's a little hared to write than the others, but he's just so fun! As always, spelling and continuity have been checked and edited. 8/18/16


	24. Episode 22

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB. I don't even have an Xbox or a single copy of any Halo game. But I do have a laptop! And Marley.

 **Episode 22:** Say Who Now?

Rick came up to Sarge, asking how the robots were coming. "Great! With these new color coded instructions, all my previous mistakes seem laughably obvious!" Sarge said. Rick blinked, then shrugged.

"Meh, whatever. Say, you didn't make any unauthorized and ill advised modifications to these robots... did you?" the mechanic asked warily, knowing his CO had an odd view of what was acceptable and a pension for unnecessary inventions. Sarge laughed.

"I'm the one who authorized the building of these robots in the first place! Of course there's no unauthorized modifications!" he said. Rick blinked again, then sighed.

"What about 'ill advised?'" he prompted.

"What would count as 'ill advised,' and why would you say that of your superior officer, Simmons?!" Sarge asked, puffing up a little.

"Uh..." began Rick, planning on telling his crazy CO just what he thought of his robots, when Dex ran up.

"Hey guys. Rick, how are the robots coming?" the orange soldier asked. Rick shrugged.

"Well, I'd say they're fine... but Sarge won't tell me if he made any modifications to them," he said. Dex nodded and Sarge decided that there were a few things he needed to correct.

"You asked if I had made any 'unauthorized and ill advised' modifications, not if I made modifications. There's a difference Simmons," he said. The other two Red Soldiers rolled their eyes at their CO.

"Well. Are they ready yet, Sargent Lead Ears?" Dex asked.

"Don't you sass me soldier!" Sarge barked back.

"Oh? So you can hear me now huh?" Dex shot back, Rick shaking his head beside him.

"Dex's got a point there Sarge," he pointed out. Sarge put his long practiced art to use and ignored them both.

"I'm just putting on the finishing touches," he said, fiddling with a few minor things before standing back and saying, "gentlemen! Allow me to introduce Francisco Montague Zanzibar!" pointing to the black robot. "And that one's 'Robot Number Two,'" Sarge added jerking his head toward the cobalt robot.

"Why didn't that one get a fancy name?" Dex asked. Sarge shrugged.

"Let's just say, _someone_ has an over clocked sass-back chip and refused all names!" he said. Dex chuckled and held a fist out to the robot, who had emitted a series of flute-like noises, followed by a squawk.

"Way to go robot man, way to go!" he said. The robot fist bumped him and said,

"You know it bro." Dex chuckled and slung an arm around him.

"If you weren't a Blue, I have a feeling we'd be the best of friends," he said. Rick shuddered so slightly his armor didn't pick it up.

"Oh, the horror," he muttered, imagining two Dex's running around. For some reason, in his imagination, one of them was fat and telling the other to slow down. That... didn't seem quite right.

"But it's okay! I can even use it to my advantage," Sarge said, ignoring his soldiers and drawing Rick out of his imaginings. "I made some special modification to Numbero Dos. Watch this. Codeword... Dirtbag." The robot Dex had an arm around beeped twice, let out a high pitched 'eep,' and smashed the butt of his assault rifle into the weapon master's gut. The air in his lungs was forced out with a pained gasp. Sarge chuckled. "Pretty nifty huh?" he asked. Rick gaped at his CO.

"That... was terrible. Why attack Dex? The guy in charge of our weapons? There's no telling what he could do in retaliation! Now, if you had made it so that he hit the Blues when they used one of their catch phrases, yeah, that'd be awesome, but Dex? No. You don't hurt your comrades," the IT wizard told the older man. Dex chuckled, already recovered despite the hand he kept against his stomach.

"Ah, give it a rest Rick. It's just Sarge being Sarge. It wasn't nearly as hard as some of the blows I get in training," he said. Seeing that his friend was already back to what was normal for him, Rick sighed.

"Still," he remarked. Dex shook his head.

"Softie," he muttered.

"This has been going on for nearly three years, Dex. And what's worse, I helped," Rick said. Dex shook his head and turned to Sarge.

"That's... that's not the only special feature," Sarge said, starting to feel a little guilty for his actions towards Grif. A little.

"See, I knew you'd made ill advised modifications to them," Rick remarked, crossing his arms and glaring. Dex sighed and tossed him a roll of bills, which he hastily caught and started counting. "Let's hear it then."

"Well, one has a listening device, and the other had a ten mega-ton bomb!" Sarge said with pride. Dex and Rick blinked, shared a look, and then Rick went over to the robots.

"Either of you know which one has the bomb?" he asked. Robot Number Two stepped forward. "No wonder you didn't like Sarge. Alright, sit tight and I'll see what I can do to get it out."

"Eagle would have liked a homing beacon," Dex said, wondering if that would get Sarge to listen to what he had to say. Sarge hummed, as though he were actually considering it.

"That might have been a better idea," he said. Rick, having heard, decided to see if he could re-purpose some of the bomb parts to fashion a beacon. Just as the deadline was approaching, Rick stood up with a happy, 'ah!'

"Got it! Bomb defused and re-purposed into a locator, though if his circuits were to get over-stressed, there is a possibility that he might still explode," he said. Dex clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Good work Rick!" he said. The mechanic chuckled and shrugged.

"I try," he said.

/*/

Meanwhile, Eagle was still held captive by the Blues. Once again, Caboose was the one watching him. Looking at the blue soldier before him, Eagle couldn't help but grin and remark, "I believe this... is what is called the 'calm before the storm.'" Caboose didn't seem to get the minor warning in the pink armored soldier's words.

"I call it nap time," Caboose said excitedly, while lowering his gun, "which is right before food time. And then comes food nap time! That is my favorite time of them all."

"Mr. Caboose, I just want you to know, that even though we are on different teams, and we may never see each other again, whatever happens out there today, I'll always remember these moments we've shared together... you will always be my friend. But I'm still going for you first," Eagle said. Really, there wasn't much else he could say in the face of Caboose's... Cabooseness. Caboose stared silently at Eagle for a moment before he said,

"Private Doughnut? That sounds like Private Biscuit!" Eagle laughed. He just knew this guy was going to be his go-to guy when it came to a good laugh.

"Yes. Yes it does!" he said, grinning under his helmet. Sure this guy was funny, and he seemed a little... out of it, but there were times when Eagle was fairly sure he was just hiding his true intelligence, or choosing not to use it. Whatever it was, Eagle decided, should their silly fight ever end, he'd be hanging out with Caboose when Dex and Red got to be too much.

/*/

It really didn't take long for Dex, Rick, Sarge, Francisco Montague Zanzibar, and Robot Number Two to reach the center of the canyon. Or... what everyone was calling the center. It was a rather ambiguous description to be honest. "Think they'll show?" Dex asked Rick. The IT wizard shrugged.

"Well, they really seemed to want the robots, so... yeah. I think they'll show. The question isn't 'will they show,' the question is 'what will they do when they get the robots?'" he said. Dex nodded.

"Makes sense," he said. That was when Sarge noticed something worrying.

"Great Caesar's Ghost! Looks like they brought out the heavy artillery!" he said, sighting down his shotgun's barrel at the tank and robot that looked suspiciously like Lopez but couldn't be. Dex sighed, shaking his head.

"Aw shoot. I forgot that today was Tuesday," he said. Rick laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I feel your pain, Dex. Why do the long, drawn out, wacky missions always start on a Tuesday?" he asked. Sarge sent the pair a suspicious look, finally beginning to wonder if they knew Project Red.

"No clue, but I was so hoping this wouldn't be a typical Tuesday," Dex said before giving himself a slight shake and standing up a bit straighter. "Whelp, let's get this show on the road," he said, noticing the other Blues, along with Eagle, coming up on another hill.

"Ah-ha! They're lining up in flanking formation. Those Blue Jackals! Keep yer eyes peeled fellas! This could get ugly!" Sarge said, also noticing the Blues. Dex mentally scoffed at his CO. He had already conveyed that message to Rick. Or rather, they both got that feeling when they saw the tank... and remembered it was Tuesday. Monday's were sucky, but Tuesdays were whacked out, twisted, bloody, and left you wondering... why in the name of all that is good did I even get out of bed? And looking at the set up... both Agents couldn't help thinking... this is just another Tuesday.

/*/

"That's far enough, Lieutenant McMuffin," Caboose said, pointing his gun at Eagle. Having heard stories about the Blue soldier's inadvertent Team Killing, Eagle froze, ready to drop to the ground at a moment's notice. The only warning he'd get before the bullet flew would be a slight twitch in the finger, so he'd have to be fast. While his attention was riveted on the inexplicably dangerous solider, Eagle dimly heard the other blue guy talking.

"Church? Church? Are ya there Church? Church?"

"Hey man, I've been trying to get you on the radio for like ten minutes. What's going on?" Eagle blinked. How was he picking that up?

"Patched you through. Enjoy~!" Marley's voice said just before Tucker replied. Eagle grinned. Red and Blue transmissions curtsey of The Ghost? Man, Marley sure knew how to make up for forcing him to put up with the pink armor for so long.

"Sorry man. Still picking up the Red's transmission from when we broadcast that Lopez song," Tucker said. Eagle shivered. If the song wasn't traumatizing enough, the death threat coupled with the glare Dex gave sure was! "There's a lot of chatter."

"Well, are you at least getting anything useful?" Church asked.

"Nah, just the same two guys bickering like an old married couple. I've only been listening for five minutes and already I can tell their really in love," Tucker said. Eagle was going to make a snarky remark, but Caboose chose that moment to turn around and point his gun at the sniper, which caused him to reflexively retreat, thus loosing his perfect moment to interject. "Why can't they see it?"

"Alright. Get ready to launch operation: Circle of Confusion," Church said.

"Dude, we all confused," Eagle muttered while Tucker commented that it looked more like a triangle.

"Okay fine! Triangle of Confusion! Rhombus of Terror! Parabola of Mystery! Who cares!? Just get the gosh darn show on the road!" Church yelled.

"Well. Somebody's cranky. Did you not get your morning coffee?" Eagle remarked, then turned to Tucker. "As for Grif and Simmons, they're basically brothers. What you're suggesting is not only against the will of the Almighty God, Creator of All, it's incest and that's just gross. So... no. Just... no."

"I'm a ghost! Ghost's can't drink coffee!" Church shouted.

"He's always cranky," Tucker said. Eagle nodded sagely.

"Just like Sarge is always blood thirsty. I understand. It must be murder living with him," he said solemnly.

"I'd say you have no idea... but you live with Not a Couple over there, so I'd say you do," Tucker told the younger private, jerking a thumb toward Dex and Rick. Eagle shrugged.

"Eh, like I said, they're basically brothers. And they're _my_ big brothers. Not so bad when you know how to handle them," he said, then began walking forward. "Now lets get this farce over with," he said. Tucker shook his head but followed.

"Initiating primary commencement phase," he said. Eagle snorted.

"What are you even saying?" he asked, rhetorically. Of course, with Caboose around, nothing was ever really rhetorical.

"Quite Commander Poppin Fresh! I think they're talking about your golden, flaky crust!" Caboose said. Eagle simply had to face-palm at that.

/*/

Tucker ran a little ways forward and called out, "Hello everyone! We're here to surrender! At this time, we'd like one representative from each side to..." Eagle rolled his eyes and started walking.

"Yeah yeah, we know already!" he shouted. Dex chuckled.

"Now that... is Eagle Eye!" he shouted.

"Go on Francisco," Sarge said, sending the black robot over.

"Stay sharp. Next thing you know, Lopez will rebel, a possessed guy will pop out of nowhere and start blowing stuff up, and this will have all been for nothing," Dex said, gripping his gun a little tighter.

"Paranoid much?" Rick remarked, but still pulled out a throwing knife in his off hand while his other gripped his pistol. Dex snorted.

"Sure, but when it turns out I'm right... you owe me fifty bucks," he said, lowering his center of gravity just a smidgen.

"Deal," Rick said, pulling out five tens and then putting them back into his pocket.

"Sucker!" Dex sang out happily.

"Hold it, traitor!" Lopez said, aiming at Francisco.

"Yep," Dex said, nodded. Rick sighed. Well, that was only one part of Dex's prediction. There was still hope!

"What the! It's a double cross! Eagle! Frany Zan! Get back over here!" Sarge yelled, prompting Tucker to try pleading with them not to.

"Now the Blues are aiming at each other? What the heck is going on?! WHO'S RUNNING THIS CRAZY ARMY?!" Rick said, grabbing his head in distress, taking care not to stab himself.

"We've been outmaneuvered men! Take cover, I'm calling in an air strike!" Sarge said.

"Ya know, I bet Marley knows who our CIC is," Dex commented idly while Sarge scanned the frequencies to contact Red Command. Eagle noticed Tucker freaking out, screaming about a noise in his radio. He narrowed his eyes. Was this part of the simulation? Was the first layer of the illusion breaking? ' _About bloody time_ ,' he thought, ' _I've barely had this pink armor for a year and already I'm sick of it. Though... there are situations where it could be fun._ '

"Red Command! Come in Red Command! This is Blood Gulch outpost number one! Do you read me?" Sarge asked.

"Hello hello, who's there? Come in. Private Tucker, that you?" Vic asked, though Sarge was having a little trouble hearing him over the shouts from said Blue and the other three Reds. He thought he heard Grif saying something about imploding illusions, but he wasn't sure. Darn idiot never said anything intelligent anyway, so it likely wasn't important.

"What?! Who's Private Tucker?!" Sarge asked. "This is Sarge! I need an air strike and I need it fast!"

"Can do Sarge. I will send an air strike to target the Blue forces now. Of course, I'll need you to fill out the air strike requisition forms," Vic said.

"Isn't that typical? Ask for help and you get slapped with paperwork! Ugh. I hate paperwork," Dex moaned.

"Quite you! Go fill out the forms! And be quick about it!" Sarge ordered. Dex groaned, but turned to the base, only to be interrupted by the Blue known as Tucker.

"What the heck Vic? How do you know the Red Team? Why are you helping them against the Blues? What the heck is going on here?!" he said, freaking out. This, of course, put the Project Freelancer employee in a difficult position.

"Oh. Private Tucker. You're here too. Um... ya see... I... uh... I gotta go. Bad connection," he said, then cut the transmission.

"Wait! Vic! I need ya!" Sarge pleaded.

/*/

"Well," drawled Flowdie, not noticing Marley connecting to 'command.'

"That's not going to be very good for business," Vic's voice said. Flowdie whipped around while Marley chuckled. "Who's that?!" asked the VI.

"Agent Black," Marley said, once again chuckling.

"Agent Black?"

"Yep! And I just have to say... you've done a rather fine job of tearing down Project Freelancer's illusion in Blood Gulch. So... thank you. You've helped this Phantom out quite a bit. When I come for Freelancer... I just might spare you," she said, then ended the transmission before Vic could say anything further.

"You're evil, ya know that?" Flowdie asked. Marley laughed, kicking back in her chair.

"Aw~! But I have so much more fun this way~!" she said. Flowdie rolled his eyes and left her alone. There was no arguing with her when she got like that.

/*/

While Marley was picking on Vic, things had gone a little wacky in the canyon. Sarge had charged the Blues, Tucker tried to get them to stop fighting due to his revelation that there _was_ no Red vs Blue and it was all a scam, Sarge didn't actually fire any bullets, and Rick and Dex just stood there staring at their CO in wonder. "Was he always this insane?" asked Rick.

"Since day one," Dex replied.

"Huh. We really need to pay attention to you more often," Rick remarked, causing Dex to nod slowly. Finally deciding that he'd had enough, Rick ran forward. "Quite Sarge! I can't hear what that guy is saying!" he yelled.

"Lock and load," Sheila hummed.

"I love blood and violence!" Sarge yelled.

"Stop fighting! Stop fighting!" Tucker pleaded loudly.

"I've got a boner for murder!" Sarge declared. Dex blinked. ' _What?_ ' he wondered. ' _Man Sarge is weird._ '

"What did you say Blue?" Rick asked while behind him Church possessed Robot Number Two.

"I said, there's no Red Vs Blue! It's all a lie!" Tucker yelled. He was going to say more, but Doc came by on a purple aline... plane... car... thing, and blew him up.

"What the heck is that?" everyone asked.

"Oh my Godiva... the evil A.I. really did possess Doc! Run for your lives!" Eagle yelled, running for higher ground to get a better angle on the possessed medic. Everyone scattered, another missile impacting the hill where the Blues had been.

"Oops! Sorry for that big explosion!" Doc yelled in his normal voice, "sorry it wasn't bigger!" he yelled in a deeper voice before cackling.

"I'd know that laugh anywhere. That's O'Malley!" Church yelled. From there, the Reds ran and hid from Doc/O'Malley while trying to find a way to cage him and knock him out. Caboose and Church when to check on Tucker.

"Tucker! Tucker! Are you okay?" Church asked, actually kinda concerned about his friend.

"Church, the purple guy, he's..." Tucker forced out.

"Yeah. I know. It's O'Malley," Church said.

"No. He's a jerk," Tucker said before passing out.

"Church?" Caboose began, coming up beside the acting Blue Team Leader while Shelia called the the background, 'Lopez! No!' "How come Tucker gets to nap during battles and I don't?" the simple soldier asked.

"Help! He took Lopez!" Shelia 'yelled.'

"Dang it!" Dex growled, scanning all about.

"On the base!" Eagle yelled.

"Here I am you fools!" O'Malley called from on top of Red Base.

"How'd he got up there so fast?" Church remarked.

"I didn't expect him to be wicked fast," Eagle commented.

"Thanks! I lettered in Track in high school! It was the least directly competitive sport I could find!" Doc, who was really Doc, shouted.

"Track sucks," Dex said loudly.

"You suck!" O'Malley retorted, completely missing Dex's, 'surfing is so much better.' "And now I make my escape with my metallic hostage, never to be seen again! Unless I want to be seen! In which case, if I see you before you see me... look out," O'Malley ranted. Rick and Dex shared a look that plainly said, to each other, 'is this guy for real?' "The Universe shall be mine!"

"Lopez! No!" cried Shelia. O'Malley turned to Lopez and motioned him through the teleporter.

"Move it brown butt. Into the abyss!" O'Malley called, charging through the teleporter. Dex started chuckling.

"Why are you laughing?" demanded Sarge.

"Called it," Dex said, holding out a hand to Rick, who groaned and slapped a roll of tens into his hand.

"I still say you cheat," he snarled. Dex shrugged, not taking his eyes off his winnings.

"Abracadabra, I'm a genie," the weapons expert deadpanned. Rick glared at him under his helmet.

"Sometimes... I really hate you," he ground out. Dex shrugged.

"Say what you want, I'm still the winner here," he remarked. Church decided, things had gone far enough.

"Hold your fire! We're coming out!" he yelled. Dex snickered and Rick elbowed him in the gut on his way to line up. "Truce! Time out!"

"Okay... anyone want to try explaining what just happened here?" Dex challenged once the Blues had lined up facing the Reds.

"That evil guy on the scooter shot one of our guys and took Lopez," Church said. Dex clapped slowly.

"Way to sum up a rather confusing action sequence in one anti-climatic sentence there Blue. Truly, you are an inspiration to us all," he said.

"But we need Lopez for very specific reason that we don't have to explain to you!" Sarge complained, ignoring Dex's comment. "We have to get him back!"

"Yeah, and we need the evil guy back. He's the only one who can heal Tucker," Church said. Rick scoffed.

"Yeah, like that isn't ironic," he remarked.

"Right. Find the guy who blew up your teammate and drag him back to heal the teammate he just blew up. That'll work!" Dex said, while Eagle remarked,

"So... now we have to work together. Isn't that kinda ironic too?"

"No. Ironic would be working together to hurt each other," Rick said.

/*/

Marley glanced over at the Red Base and shook her head. "I'm sure glad I'm over here and not over there. I don't know if I could stand two hours worth of 'I think it would be ironic if,'" she muttered as she worked on the heavily wounded and knocked out Tucker.

"Yeah... I don't think so either," Flowdie remarked from his position against the tree, hidden neatly from view by the just large enough trunk. Marley rolled her eyes and moved down to the next laceration on the poor Blue.

"Oh just shut up and let me work. It's going to take me the full two hours to get this guy patched up," she said, chucking a bloody rag at the reclining soldier. Flowdie yelped and dove to the side.

"Watch where you toss that medical waste woman!" he yelled.

"Watch who you're calling 'woman,' soldier!" Marley yelled back. "And shut up! I need to focus here!"

"You haven't even gotten to the stitches yet!" Flowdie protested. He got a knife thrown at his head for his trouble. "Fine fine, I'll shut up," he said, leaning back and gazing at the clouds.

/*/

Finally, after the aforementioned two hours, Church was ready to reveal his plan to the Reds. And Tucker. Caboose didn't really count because he never really understood anything. "Okay. We all agree, that while the current situation is not totally ironic, the fact that we now have to work together is odd in an unexpected way that defies our normal circumstance," he said with the air of a weary parent who has been negotiating with a picky two year old, "is everybody happy with that?"

"Yes," Sarge said decisively just as Rick ran up saying,

"And I just finished reprogramming the teleporter to take us directly to Lopez and O'Malley's coordinates." Sarge nodded at his favorite soldier.

"We'll leave one member of each team behind so that no one can trick anyone and take over the canyon! Our man will be Eagle Eye," he said.

"We will leave Corporal Crosanwich!" Caboose declared. The others all turned to look at him, variants of the same thought running through their minds. 'Is this guy for real?'

"Caboose," Church said, just a hint of warning in his voice. At this, Caboose added,

"And we will leave Sheila." Eagle scoffed quietly, so his helmet mics wouldn't pick it up.

"Yeah, thanks guys! Because, ya know, if this _is_ a double cross, I'm sure I can hold her off on my own." Rick and Dex both winced at the level of biting sarcasm in Eagle's comment. He was decidedly _not happy_ with the arrangement.

"Alright, we're going to do this one at a time," Church said, ignoring Eagle and attempting to impose some sort of order on the situation. "You first Sarge." The south Texan man took a deep breath and nodded.

"Today seems like a good day to teleport!" he stated boldly before jogging to the teleporter. "Geronimo!" he called out as he vanished into the swirling green.

"The scelaway!" Caboose called as he charged after Sarge. Rick hummed, looking around the canyon.

"Something wrong?" Dex asked.

"Nah. Just this weird feeling that I'm never going to see this place again," Rick replied.

"And that's a bad thing?"

"Oh no, I didn't say weird bad. I just said weird," Rick countered before entering the teleporter. Dex sighed and looked over at Eagle.

"Do try to stay out of trouble," he said. Eagle gave him a jaunty salute and Dex turned back to Church as the cobalt soldier spoke again.

"It's Grif right?" he asked.

"Grif. Dex. Hey you. Lazy butt... I answer to a lot of things," Dex responded, making Eagle snicker and Church shake his head.

"Anyway... you and me will go through together. Ready?"

"After you," Dex said, sweeping his arm out ahead of him. Church shook his head again and run through the teleporter, Dex not far behind. Left alone on the Base, Eagle had a bad feeling that trouble was about to find him, regardless of whether he wanted some or not.

"I wonder if Marley ever told the guys about tha... oh no! I didn't tell her about the sabotage!" he said, horror beginning to fill him even as he turned to the tank. "Uh... hi," he said, remembering all the times she'd freaked them out with her heavy firepower.

"Stop staring at my treads buddy," Shelia growled.

"Okay, geez. No need to go blowing my head off," Eagle grumbled turning back around. That was when Francisco Montague Zanzibar started jerking and then Tex's voice came out of it.

"Alright you idiots, I'm back! And I've got some.. he... Hey! Where'd everyone go?" she asked, looking all around. Eagle couldn't help praying she wouldn't notice him. Luck was not on his side, however, and she spotted him before he could make a break for the edge. "Do I know you?" Tex paused a moment then... "Hey! You're the girl who killed me!" Eagle twitched.

"First, I'm not a girl. Second, you threw the first grenade sister, so don't come crying to me! And third... I'm not putting up with this armor just for you. Agent mode," he said, switching to his Burgundy armor. "Much better. Now, if you'll excuse me, there's a man down that I need to check on," he added, brushing past her on his way down. Tex was left in a state of confusion, and Shelia wasn't much better. They were both left wondering, 'what the fudge?'

/*/

Meanwhile, Sarge and Caboose materialized in the middle of a thigh deep river. "Surrender, Dirtbag!" Sarge yelled.

"Okay! I surrender!" Caboose said, aiming his gun at Sarge's back. "Now it's your turn," the Blue added, lowering the gun again. Sarge sighed as he turned to the Blue.

"Not you, idiot. I was talking to O'Malley! Who... isn't... here. Where is here?" he said, trailing off and looking around in confusion as he realized... this wasn't where O'Malley had fled. Or at least, O'Malley was no where near. "Simmons is usually so much more precise," he groused, getting serious and falling into his Agent mindset. He just knew this wasn't going to end well.

/*/

Rick stared at the gray walls, industrial red caution lines, and glowing green portals. He hung his head and sighed. "Great. I'm stuck in the Nexus. I just hope GLaDOS isn't lurking somewhere waiting to kill me," he muttered before he pulling out a knife, closed his eyes, flipped it around a few times, then tossed it. Hearing the metal hit the concrete floor, Rick opened his eyes to see it pointing to a portal ten feet to his left. Nodding, Rick picked up the knife and stalked toward the glowing hole in the wall. "Agent Mode," he muttered as he knelt by the circuit panel. The inside of his gray visor lit up with schematics and calculations as he strove to find some way of contacting the other members of his squad. "Come on Dex ol' buddy don't let me..." Rick trailed off as he noticed the burgundy indicator flick on. He grinned and locked the teleporter he was working with onto the Red Base's frame. "Burgundy! Come in Agent Burgundy! Do you read?!" he called urgently. It took a moment, but Eagle's voice came though, faint but audible.

"Sure do Maroon. What's the deal? You wouldn't be calling if things were going..." Eagle began, but Maroon cut him off.

"We've been sideswiped." The line went, for lack of a better term, still. Then Burgundy snapped out,

"Black Alert," and the connection was cut. Maroon nodded and picked another frame at random to fiddle with... after marking the Blood Gulch frame of course. Burgundy would take care of letting Black know what happened... and then bring the heat.

/*/

Dex noticed immediately that his other teammates were nowhere to be seen whereas Church took a little longer. "Alright now let's just... where is everybody?" Dex groaned, hearing someone coming up behind them.

"This... is going to suck," he muttered, putting up his hands. He didn't bother asking where they were. It was cold, desolate, and felt far too much like Blood Gulch. It _had_ to be another Sim. Base.

"Freeze! Drop your weapon!" shouted a rather unintelligent sounding trooper.

"Who are you?" Church asked, turning to the... white? Sim. Trooper.

"I said freeze, Dirtbag!" the soldier yelled. Church's body let out a beep, followed by a high-pitched 'eep,' and slammed the butt of his gun into Dex's gut. Church noted how much resistance Dex provided and mentally frowned. Based off the amount of activity and enthusiasm Church saw the orange solider exhibiting, he had expected the 'red' to be a bit... squishier. These musings were shelved as Dex groaned and Church could almost _feel_ the Death Glare tm that the Red was directing at him.

"Really? _Really?_ You couldn't control that?" he asked, even as he reluctantly handed over his weapons... his visible ones anyway. He still had a few knives, a flash bang or two, and a taser stashed in his left bracer. Still, he didn't like parting with his guns. As the white soldier shoved them into a jail cell, Dex couldn't help growling out, "You've just made your last mistake." Church shivered while the unnamed solider laughed.

"And what do you mean by that?" he asked. Dex chuckled darkly and motioned the man closer. Like the fool he was, the solider did just that.

"I'd suggest you say good bye to your friends and tell your girlfriend you love her... but you're not going to have the chance," Dex said, then yanked the soldier forcefully into the 'bars' of the cell. Church, if he could have, would have blinked in shock. As it was, he jumped back with a yelp. Dex chuckled darkly again and muttered, "Agent mode." Again, Church could only stare in shock as the Red changing in front of him. Agent Orange rolled his shoulders and nodded with a snort to the knocked out soldier on the floor. "Red Agents don't take well to being locked up, idiot," he growled.

"So... who are you really?" Church asked, then froze when he registered the gray visor directed at him.

"Agent Orange," the weapons master said, holding out a hand. Church would have swallowed heavily if he could, before taking the hand and giving it a firm shake.

"Private Leonard Church," he said. Dex grinned wildly under his helmet.

"Pleasure to meet you, Leonard," he said before tapping his radio and trying to contact the other members of Project Red. Church decided it would be better to let the rather intimidating man work in peace and retreated to the corner.

/?/

A/N: And here, we start to see bigger diversions from the original. Project Red is in the house!

A/N 2: Minor edits. Mostly spelling and some word choice. 8/19/16


	25. Episode 23

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB.

 **Episode 23:** We All Live in a Teleporter World

Tucker groaned. Everything hurt. "Ah. You're alive," a strange voice said.

"Ugh. Hurts. Just let me die," Tucker moaned.

"Black already treated you," the voice said. Tucker paused, thinking that over. He did feel a bit better than he thought he would, without medical attention.

"Who's... Black?" he asked. The stranger sighed and Tucker though he heard him crouch down to his level.

"Agent Black," the visitor said. Tucker's eyes flew open, to find a burgundy helmet with a gray stripe down the center and a gray visor staring at him.

"How do you see with that thing?" he asked, deciding to leave the question of how he knew _the_ Agent Black for another time. The visitor, whom he was going to call Burgundy, chuckled.

"Same way you do," he said.

"But it's gray!" Tucker protested, "if you see the same way I do, then the HUD is off!"

"Different wiring," Burgundy said with a shrug.

"You're a real talkative guy, aren't you?" Tucker pondered. Burgundy tilted his head and Tucker had a feeling the crazy guy was smiling.

"When I feel like it. Yes," he said.

"You got a name?"

"Agent Burgundy," the man said, holding out a hand. Tucker smirked.

"Private Tucker," he said, taking the hand. He found himself hauled to his feet by the Agent.

"You're..." began Burgundy, before he cut himself off with a jerk and brought his hand up to his radio. "Sure do Maroon. What's the deal? You wouldn't be calling if things were going..." he said, but whoever this 'Maroon' guy was must have cut him off because Burgundy froze for a moment before snapping, "Black Alert," and cutting the transmission. "Your friends are in trouble. Go to Red Base. Now!" Burgundy ordered, already running goodness knew where. Tucker shrugged and went on over to Red Base.

/*/

Sarge, still in Standard Mode, was trying to contact _anyone_. Once it was clear he wasn't reaching anyone, he turned to Caboose. "Well, I don't think the others are coming. We must have gotten separated somehow," he said.

"My toes... are getting pruny," Caboose said.

"O... kay," Sarge said, wondering why _he_ was the one stuck with the idiot Blue, "why don't we try ta find O'Malley," he suggested, running away from Caboose.

"I know where you can find O'Malley," the other solider said seriously, "he lived inside my helmet for a while. Maybe he left an address to send his mail. We were like roommates." If it hadn't been such an outrageous idea, Sarge would have believed Caboose. He sounded far more sane and... together... than usual. Aside from the crazy idea of a mad A.I. leaving a return address.

"Sounds like he took some of the furniture with him. And the carpet. And the drapes. I wouldn't expect to get that deposit back, if you know what I mean," the man remarked. Caboose didn't seem to hear him as he ran past. Sarge followed the Blue, only to find the local base... in front of which was a bloody Blue laying face down on the blood soaked dirt. Caboose, of course, reacted to this with his usual childishness.

"Look Sarge! A sleeping person!" Sarge looked around, remarking,

"What?" Then he realized who Caboose was talking about and ran toward the Blue saying, "Holy macaroon!" He reached the body and swiftly crouched, reaching out to test for a pulse. Feeling none, even after the count of five, Sarge felt cold dread well up in his chest. "He's not sleeping, son," he said as he stood, almost absentmindedly checking his shotgun, "he's dead."

"Oh good," Caboose said, causing Sarge to pivot toward him in shock. "At first, I thought that was me. Because, I am Blue. And, I like to sleep. But if he is dead that... cannot be me. That would be silly." Sarge shook his head and choose to ignore the... Caboosism.

"No doubt he was killed by our very enemy! Once again I find myself torn. On the one hand, there's one less Blue in the universe... but now Doc's got a bigger body count than me!" he ranted, "and that just won't do. No sir," he finished, facing the entry ramp. He looked down at the dead solider as Caboose once again ran past him. "Rest in peace... scumbag," the Red felt obligated to say. From around the corner, Caboose called,

"Sargent! Look! More sleeping people!" Sarge ran around and saw a field of carnage, Reds and Blues strewn across blood soaked dirt, spent shell casings and bullet holes littering the site of what had to have been a Last Stand. Caboose, of course, wasn't done making light of the situation though. "It must be nap time." Sarge idly wondered if the Blue's nose didn't work quite right. The stench of spilt blood and burnt gunpowder was so heavy in the air, the grizzled soldier could almost taste it. "But who has nap time now? Nap time comes _before_ pants time, not _after_. I think these people are just making up times!" Crazy idiot actually sounded mildly offended.

"What the Samuel Hill Slinky happened here?!" Sarge yelled. A little voice, which sounded suspiciously like Marley, whispered, 'Samuel Hill Slinky? How do you come up with these things?' Sarge ruthlessly squashed that voice. It was always extremely annoying. Much like the real Marley. Huh. Go figure right? "It must have been an enormous battle," Sarge decided. "Hello! Are there any survivors?! Preferably Red survivors?! But don't let that discourage you from speaking up if you're a Blue! I won't step on yer neck or anything like that!" he yelled. Caboose turned to the Sargent slowly.

"Am I allowed to answer?" he asked. Sarge felt a flare of annoyance at the Blue, but held back from discharging his weapon into his head. When stranded in unfamiliar and likely hostile environments, it was best to keep as many of your comrades alive as possible and make use of available resources. Fortunately for Caboose, he fit both those categories. Thus, he was firmly in the 'need alive and functioning' category. So, Sarge simply gave a sharp 'shush' and went on. That was when the sound of trumpets playing could faintly be heard.

"You hear that?" the Red asked.

"Yes. That noise is called 'water.' It is very wet, and very slushy," the Blue responded. If Sarge hadn't known better he'd have thought the boy was mocking him.

"No, I was talking about the trumpet, Bluetard," he said blandly. Seriously, of all the people he could have been stranded with, it _had_ to be Caboose. Heck, even _Grif_ would have been preferable! At least he could _pretend_ to know what was going on!

"I have to go to the bathroom now for some reason," Caboose said. Sarge decided to block him out, focusing more on where he'd heard that tune before. The music grew clearer and recognition flared in the veteran soldier's mind.

"Wait a minute. I know that song! It's reveille!" he said. "But why would someone be playing reveille in the middle of... ?" Sarge began, only to be cut off by the previously _dead_ Reds and Blues leaping up with loud cheers, the smell of gun smoke and blood vanishing. "Sweet jibbly jiblets!" Sarge remarked.

"Running time!" Caboose called in a slightly nervous tone. _All_ the Reds and Blues got up and started running, each letting out a 'hut' or 'hey' sound as they scrambled for their respective bases in almost orderly lines. The Blues hopped down their inverted ramp into their base, shouting out things like 'high jump' and 'ho!' while the Reds ran into their ground level door shouting 'hey ho.' This, of course, left Caboose and Sarge standing in their original positions, staring after them in shock.

"What just happened here?" Sarge asked no-one in particular. Of course, being the only other person around, Caboose felt compelled to answer.

"I think all the sleeping people were trying..." he began before getting cut off with a swift,

"That was rhetorical!" from Sarge. Of course, this still left the questions of 'what just happened?' and 'what do we do now?' Two very important questions. Luckily, Sarge had an answer to the second question. He ran to the blue Base, which was closest, and noticed a high, large, window. He called his companion over and asked for a boost. In hindsight, he really should have been a _bit_ more detailed than just, "Caboose! Get over here and give me a boost!" That boy was far too... wait. He couldn't really call him 'literal' seeing as he'd gone for a morale boost. Or _was_ that literal? Eh whatever. Sarge swiftly set the Blue straight. Or tried to. "Not a morale boost you moron! A physical one! I need to see what's going on in that window!" Caboose looked up at said window, then back at Sarge.

"That window is very high. I don't think you are tall enough," he said.

"I know!" Sarge ground out, annoyed. "I need you to help me look through it."

"I don't think I am tall enough either," Caboose said. Sarge would have been ready to tear his hair out if he hadn't been wearing a full face helmet. As it was, he just really wanted to shoot something. Preferably something Blue. "Also, my head is round. That window is square." Oh, how Sarge wanted to shoot this idiot. Instead, he growled out,

"Come here you," and hoisted the other solider into the air so he could look through the window. Sarge could vaguely hear, 'I wanna kill me a Red!' over Caboose's exclamation of surprise. "What'da see?" the Red grunted, taking care to balance the Blue as he looked around. It wouldn't do if he fell on him, now would it?

"I see... a room," Caboose relayed. Sarge rolled his eyes.

"What's _in_ the room?" he asked, reminding himself he needed the Blue idiot's help.

"There are some walls... and some ceilings. Wait! Just one ceiling," Caboose said. It was getting _really_ hard for Sarge to remember he needed this guy.

"What's making all that racquet?" Caboose paused for a moment and Sarge heard the Blues inside begin chanting the same thing. He only caught a few words, such as 'kill' and 'Reds.'

"You are not going to like it," Caboose said... solemnly? Or... as solemnly as he could. Sarge sighed and dropped Caboose, making sure to move out of his landing zone.

"Caboose, I have a very bad feeling about..." he began, only to be interrupted by trumpets. The Reds and Blues rushed out of their bases, screaming with guns blazing, and commenced the killing. High-pitched screams, frantic yelling, bullets, and glowing needles filled the air with utter confusion. "Come on Caboose! We gotta get to higher ground!" Sarge yelled, peaking around the corner of Blue Base at the chaos unfolding. Taking advantage of a momentary reload-aiming, Sarge lead the Blue Idiot to the cliff side, where they found a convenient ladder to the ridge line. From there, they looked down on the Reds and Blues who were doing what they had been assigned to do but didn't care enough to actually do... meaning kill each other senselessly while screaming insults.

"Sarge... I am scared of our new friends," Caboose said softly, staring at the craziness. Before Sarge could really reply to that, the trumpets started up again.

"What in...? What _now!_ " he yelled. Just then, a Red ran out of the Blue Base with the Blue Flag.

"Stop fighting! Stop fighting! Everyone stop fighting!" he yelled in a high-pitched, and rather fast, voice. Surprisingly, after shooting him a few times, the others did just that. "Every one! Every one! Look unto me! I possess the Blue Flag!"

"It's more beautiful than I ever imagined!" another Red, who sounded remarkably like Simmons, said as he lowered his gun. The other Red didn't seem to care much and continued to yell, waving the flag about semi-randomly,

"I have seen the top of the mountain! And you will worship me as though I were a god!" That was when the Blues decided 'enough of this idiot' and swarmed him. "I regret nothing! I lived as few men dare to dream!" the Red who had, for a brief moment, captured the flag yelled as he lay dying. The other Reds and Blues looked at each other, then the dead Red, than back to each other... then recommenced the yelling of insults and the barrage of bullets. One Red pulled off a semi-assassination, then got killed by a Head Shot from the sniper on the ridge, who got killed by a rocket from Red Base, who got cussed at by the falling Blue sniper, and that was where Sarge lost track. He wasn't too sure Caboose had even had track. Then, when there were only one of each side, Sarge could keep track again. But...

"Hey! Blue! We're the only ones left! Why don't we work together?!"

"What do you mean?!"

"I'm coming out!"

"Okay, so am I!" The two met in the river. "What did you mean about working together?" The Red clubbed him in the head with his sniper rifle and laughed.

"I hit you with my rifle and you die! Good teamwork you n00b!" the Red said, then turned to the canyon at large and yelled, "Good game everybody! Good game!" before dying himself. A moment of silence and then...

"I have no earthly idea what it is I just saw or what this place is or where in the heck O'Mally is. My only choice is to blame Grif, for coming up with such a flawed plan," Sarge remarked, staring out over the field of carnage. "Stupid, stupid Grif."

"I am confused. Where is Church? I need Church to tell me what to do. Church can handle this. He can handle anything!" Caboose lamented, Sarge simply staring in shocked awe of how stupid the Blue was.

/*/

Meanwhile, at Sidewinder, Church was lamenting his fate, stuck in a jail cell with Gr... no. _Orange_. Though, at least the guy who had locked them up had woken up. Sadly, he was staying _far_ away from the bars and almost out of hearing range. Creepy laughter from the guy who basically told you you'd be dying soon before bashing your head into solid metal bars tends to do that to a guy. Still, Church could yell at him. It made him feel better, if only just a little. "Hey idiot, for the last time, let me out of this gosh darn jail cell!" the Blue roared. Orange groaned, rolling his head.

"Please. Just open the door. It'll save a whole lot of pain in the long run. Trust me," he said, finally directing his visor toward the lone guard, who was going to need some serious therapy if he didn't end up dead from some inexplicable event that no-one could have foreseen. The poor idiot shivered as he felt those hidden eyes lock onto his back. Oh, how he _wished_ he could open the door just to get away from that flat stare! And how had that guy gotten different armor? It should have been impossible! "Ugh. Who's plan was this again? Oi. Church. Remind me to shoot the idiot who thought this up in the groin with a round of lock-down paint when we all meet up again," Orange moaned. Church shivered this time. Man, this guy was _way_ more intimidating than he had ever given him credit for.

/*/

Maroon, on the other hand, was fiddling with another teleporter, trying to lock onto the one member of their team he hadn't pinged. "Come on! I just need to wire this thing into that, and then maybe I can signal boost on that thing there... I might just be able to get that to work," he muttered as he worked on Random Teleporter Number 7. Suddenly, he saw Sarge and Caboose standing back to back, shooting at someone he couldn't see.

"Caboose! Caboose! Keep them away from me!" Sarge yelled, popping more ammo into his shot gun. "Get that one! And that one! No no! The one with the limp! Get 'em!" Maroon smirked.

"Found you~!" he sang with glee. "Now, to lock onto your location and broadcast to your helmet. Shouldn't be long now."

"I don't want to kill! But, I don't want to die even more," Caboose said, reloading his assault rifle.

"Come in, come in, can you hear me?" Maroon asked loudly as he slotted the last wire into place.

"Yes. I hear you Mr. Sargent," Caboose said, slowly turning toward Sarge, who was pistol whipping a random Blue in the face.

"I didn't say anything!" the Sargent said, then turned to Caboose. "We need to break this unending cycle of attack and retaliation! Either by a, convincing the two sides to live in peace, or b, by getting ourselves completely involved and kicking some serious kiester! I vote b."

"I have a plan Sargent," Caboose said, standing to the side of Blue Base, where bullet holes lined up to spell 'CABOSE,' "but we will have to move quick!" He came closer and whispered, 'whisper whisper whisper' before backing up and asking, "Do you think that will work?" The connection fizzed out and Maroon bit back a curse.

"Well darn. Back to fiddling. Joy," he groused, getting back to work. Seeing as he didn't want to explicitly show that he was Agent Maroon, he switched his armor to standard mode. It didn't really affect his work all that much, so it didn't matter which version of his armor he wore.

/*/

On the other side of the teleporter, Sarge was staring at Caboose, incredulous. "All you said was 'whisper whisper whisper'!" he half shouted.

"I know. I just wanted to be the one with a plan for once," Caboose admitted. Sarge sighed heavily.

"Right. Come on. I have an idea," he said, leading the Blue into the Blue Base. He grabbed the flag and turned back to the Blue. "Now for the Red Flag," he said. Caboose nodded, acting like he understood the plan, and exited the base. Once they had both flags, they went back up on the ridge, and waited.

/*/

The Reds of Battle Creek were psyching themselves up for another round of senseless killing that wasn't permanent... for some reason. Overlapping, high-pitched, excited chatter filled the main room of the base. Common phrases were, 'kill the blues,' 'Yeah!' and 'get the flag.' Finally, one Red with a large rifle shouted, "We must protect this house!" The others echoed him. This repeated once and then the Red shouted, "This is our house!" before another guy asked,

"Hey guys? Where's our Flag?" Cue round of gasps as Red soldiers turn around.

"The Flag is gone?" Oh. And incredulous/shocked/stunned/disbelieving statements of fact framed as questions. Can't forget those. Only natural in such situations.

"What will we do?" Getting the flag back comes to mind. Or, ya know, kicking back and watching the latest Grifball game. That's always an option.

"If the flag is gone, who will lead us? Who will inspire us with their shiny pole? Who will flag directions to us in battle? We are lost and the world as we know it is gone forever from our eyes, only to live in our memories as the days of salad and glory! Truly! These are the end of times! Repent! Repent!" Okay. Seriously? A religion based on... okay. You, sir, have been in that science defying canyon for far too long. Look! Even the rest of your team is staring at you like you've truly lost it!

"This sucks. I'm leaving!" the guy with the needler complained. THANK YOU, NAMELESS NEEDLER WEILDING RED! I SALUTE YOU! Wait. Where were we?

"Yeah." Couldn't have said it better myself, Rocket Launcher Guy. Couldn't have said it better. So! After that bout of nonsense, the Reds and Blues rushed out... er... _straggled_ out and half-heartedly lined up facing each other, lacking any and all enthusiasm.

"Oh Blue Team! Look what I have!" Sarge yelled from the ridge. The blues looked up to see some weird Red guy on the cliff... waving their flag at them. Okay. _Now_ , he _really_ had their attention.

"Oh Blue Team! Look what... oh wait. I messed up my line. Let's start over," Caboose said. The Red Team still looked up, but only because they were wondering why Blue Team had _two_ things that should be captured.

"They have our flag!" a random Red guy said.

"No they don't, they have our flag!" a random Blue guy countered.

"Listen you morons," Sarge began, calling attention back to the one soldier in the canyon with half a brain, "yer gonna have to work for us now."

"What's in it for us?!" asked Random Red Guy.

"Help us get out of here, and we'll give you back your flags. Then you can go back to senselessly killing yerselves," Sarge said.

"Deal! Ha, sucker!" Random Red Guy yelled, clearly thinking he'd pulled some sort of double cross, when he hadn't even had a cross to pull. Wait...

"Wait. Why don't we just kill you guys and take our flags back?" Random Blue Guy yelled. Sarge grimaced. Trust a Blue to turn the tables on him. Darn dirty Blues! They were almost as pesky as Grunts! Evil little goblin gnomes!

"Hum. Yeah!" Random Red Guy Number Two yelled. Then someone shot Random Blue Guy and another Red Guy shouted,

"Oh you got owned! Nice shot! Owned man!" And just like that, the Battle Creek bloodbath was back on in full force, Sarge and Caboose forgotten on the ridge.

"Caboose," Sarge said, turning to the Blue Marley had been muttering about running brain scans on for the past six months, "I give up."

"Wait," Caboose said, and Sarge wondered if he should take the idiot seriously. Marley rarely ran brain scans without good reason. She'd said as much when she refused his request to scan Grif. "I can make them listen. I can beat them!" Sarge quirked an eyebrow. Really? Where was this Red beating power back in Blood Gulch huh?

"Son... what are ya talking about?" he asked, fighting to keep his voice calm in the face of even more insanity than what he faced in Blood Gulch itself.

"O'Malley taught me how to be mean," Caboose said, and Sarge just knew this would end in tears. Didn't matter whose, it'd just end with tears. And maybe some blood. "I just have to concentrate on bad things! Like... milk! No wait. Red... red-bull!"

"Son, I think you've really lost it," Sarge said solemnly, just barely resisting laying a hand on Caboose's shoulder. "O'Malley's not in yer head anymore! He infected the Doc!"

"No! I can still feel him! I just need to get angry and say mean things! Like... uh? Your brain is a mountain of hatred!" Caboose maintained, voice strained as he concentrated on being mean. Sarge could only stare on in shock. The little Marley voice in his head said,

' _Don't think too hard there buddy, ya might hurt yourself_.'

"I never thought I'd reach the moment in my life when I actually missed Grif. But here it is," Sarge said. Then a little Grif voice popped up and said,

' _Aw~! Look at that! Red_ does _care!_ ' Wait... was that Grif... or Dex? It sounded like Grif's voice, but it was something Dex would say! And he used his Agent name! What?!

"Now I am thinking about kittens! Gah, kittens that are covered in spikes! That makes me angry! GAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" Caboose said, his voice going a bit deeper as he yelled before suddenly he jumped off the ridge and slowly stood up. Sarge quirked an eyebrow and watched. "My name is Micheal J. Caboose! And I hate BABIES!" the Blue declared dramatically. Sarge's eyebrow jumped just a little higher. The heck?

"It's the Beast! The Anti-Flag! Come to live among us and rules us for seven years! The end is nigh!" the religious nut yelled, right before Caboose pistol whipped him the fudge out. Sarge couldn't help the 'Ooh!' that came out at the hit. Who knew Caboose was strong enough to knock a Spartan out with one hit? Caboose then pistol whipped two more people unconscious before picking up a sniper rifle and taking out another three in a row.

"Huh. Grif was right. A swift pistol whip to the face does wonders. And I cannot believe I just said that," Sarge muttered, watching the carnage down below.

"Sarge! Caboose! Can you hear me!" Simmons' voice said. Sarge turned and saw a green figure hovering above the rock.

"Simmons? How long have you been there?"

"Behind the teleporter or behind you? Gonna need to be a _little_ more specific there boss man," the green figure said. Sarge could have sworn he was smirking. What the heck?! Was the world falling apart?!

"Doesn't matter. Where are you and can you get me and Caboose out?" Sarge barked out.

/*/

Maroon rolled his eyes at his CO's brash demeanor, but decided that it was better to work now, question later. "Get to the teleporter, I'll take care of the rest," he said, then disconnected the comm and set to work locking onto the co-ordinates. It was only a few minutes later when Sarge's voice was yelling at him again.

"Hurry up Simmons!"

"Is that reveille? Where... ? Never mind. Get through now! I'm not sure how long it'll hold! These things are junk!" Maroon asked, then shook his head and stepped out of the way. Sarge barreled through, then Caboose. "Well! Thank you for flying Teleporter Maroon! Do be sure to tip your flight attendant and leave a review on our website," he quipped.

"Efficient as always Simmons, but I'll have to dock you a merit for the poor attempt at humor!" Sarge countered. Maroon sighed.

"Yeah sure. Whatever. Not like I saved you from some whacked out battlefield or anything," he muttered darkly, turning away and contacting Burgundy. "Hey! Eagle Eyes in the sky! Hows things?"

"Maroon. SAVE ME!" Burgundy yelled back. Maroon winced at the volume... and the fact that he could feel Sarge's eyes boring into his back.

"Woah woah! Calm down! Save you? From what?"

"TEX! Oh and also... Tucker. Not to forget the GAINT KILLER _TANK!_ "

"Easy sniper boy. The killer tank's killer personality is in the teleporter nexus with..." Maroon said, only to stop when he heard Caboose say,

"What happened? The last thing I remember was some very mean kittens! And then we were in this janitor's closet! And my throat hurts. A lot." Shaking his head, Maroon told Burgundy that he'd call him back in a bit.

"Do me one better and get me outta here Maroon!" the sniper yelled just before the connection cut.

"Okay. I missed something. Spill," Maroon said, crossing his arms and leaning back on his left leg, leaving his right ready to attack. Oh, and he had knives strapped to his biceps. Very important detail there.

"Simmons... I have absolutely no idea where it was I just came from," Sarge said. Maroon nodded.

"Duly noted. What about Caboose? What's his deal?" Sarge just stared at him, willing the soldier to feel the weight of the stupidity loaded into the question. "His _current_ deal," he corrected with a nod.

"He... uh... managed to pull an O'Malley without O'Malley," Sarge said. Maroon blinked.

"He what?"

"He actually had me missing Grif for a moment!" Sarge wailed. Maroon blinked again and walked off.

"You're not the only one missing our weapons expert, Red," he muttered, then contacted Burgundy. "Hey. Double checking that your teleporter will bring you to me. Should be ready for you and your group to cross over in five minutes," he said.

"Awesome. See you then," Burgundy said before cutting connection. Maroon chuckled, shaking his head. When Frank was in full Burgundy mode, he was truly a man of few words.

/*/

Meanwhile, in some evil lair, O'Malley was laughing. "Well, my metallic friend, your modifications are complete! And my plans are coming to furition! Furtion?"

"Fruition," Lopez supplied in bland English. He still hadn't managed to get himself to stop speaking in Spanish. He theorized that it was trauma based. Never mind the fact he wasn't, exactly, an A.I and that even if he were... oh wait. A.I.s _could_ receive mental trauma. Yeah, it was definitely trauma related. Stupid Blue team, traumatizing him into permanent Spanish mode!

"Oh shut up!" O'Malley barked, turning to Lopez. The robot gave him his best flat glare. It looked like everyone elses, due to the helmets, but hey, A for effort. Say, shouldn't the saying be 'e for effort' since effort starts with an 'e' not an 'a'? Just a thought.

"Yes, master. Your plan is foolproof," the robot droned, though O'Malley only understood 'excellent' and 'yes.' Eh, it worked.

"Now to gather my enemies!" the A.I declared, and called Vic. He got voice mail. "Vic! Pick up, it's me!" he demanded.

"Oh hey! Doctor Breter von Evildude! What's up?" Vic asked.

"Don't screen my calls Vic."

"Dude, you don't show up on caller ID! I'm not gunna answer..."

"Caller ID? I'm in hiding you buffoon!" O'Malley raged. "I'm trying to take over the universe!"

"We're also on the 'do not call' list!" Doc put in 'helpfully.'

"Oh shut up," O'Malley told the man whose body he'd highjacked.

"So how's that plot going dude?" Vic asked, ignoring the split personality.

"Magnificent! Mawhahahahah! I've called my bounty hunter in! He'll take care of your little 'Red and Blue' problem post haste! Mwahahaha!" O'Malley answered.

"Oh cool! Thanks for turning that around so quick dude. I know you're swamped."

"Then the universe will be mine! And I'll crush every living soul into dust! Ah-hahahahaha!" O'Malley said, then paused for a moment before adding, "Except for you of course Vic. I'll make you assistant crusher."

"Okay dude. Looking forward to that," Vic said, sounding as though he could think of a million things more appealing that being assistant crusher of the universe. Truly, the dry sarcasm in his voice could have dried up a lake. It was that dry. And biting. But O'Malley didn't seem to catch it. Which was good for Vic. Even if he was a VI, O'Malley would have hunted him down. Eventually. With a rocket launcher.

/*/

Back at the teleporter nexus, Maroon was greeting Burgundy, Tucker, and Tex. "Nice of you to join the party," he said. Burgundy snorted and stalked off to a higher walk-way. Maroon shook his head. "Wow. You guys must have _really_ gotten on his last nerve. Usually he'll at least make a grunty noise!" he said to Tex, who had just walked through. Before she could say anything, Tucker came through. Covered in black stuff that smelled like tar.

"Oooowwww carp!" the Blue yelled in pain

"What's that on your armor?" Maroon asked.

"Wait... just me? What the fudge?" Tucker exclaimed. Maroon rolled his eyes.

"Moving on. What did you do to Burgundy? He didn't even nod at me when he came through!" he also exclaimed.

"Dude... you know Agent Burgundy?" Tucker asked. Maroon snorted while Sarge came up behind.

"Sure I do. We trained together," the IT specialist remarked.

"Simmons?" Sarge asked.

"Right! Well, as this party demonstrated rather handily, these teleporters should take us wherever we want or need to go. It's all a matter of shifting the exit coordinates," Maroon redirected quickly. This was one conversation, he didn't need to be having.

"Looked more like you shifted the entry coordinates to me," Sarge countered.

"Sarge... who's the IT guy around here?" Cue explosive sigh.

"You."

"And what did I say it was?" Simmons prompted, twirling a finger at his CO in a rather condescending manner. Sarge's head drooped.

"Shifting the exit coordinates," he replied.

"That's right," Maroon said with a swift nod, standing back straight and crossing his arms. "And what the IT guy says, goes. At least when it comes to tech."

"So. Any idea which go where?" Sarge asked, looking around and eager to change the subject. Maroon sighed.

"Doesn't matter. I can _reprogram them to take us anywhere_. I could just as easily use the one you came through," he said, waving vaguely in the direction Caboose had just come from.

"DON'T USE THAT ONE!" Sarge yelled, causing Maroon and Burgundy to chuckle.

"Panicked Sarge is panicked," Burgundy said, laughter still coloring his voice.

"Sure is, Burgundy buddy. Sure is," Maroon remarked with the same light tone.

/*/

Sarge had just about had enough of this Simmons imposter. Who seemed a lot like Maroon. Grasping for some form of control, contrived or otherwise, he said, "Well, to reprogram, you need coordinates right? Any way you can contact the others?" Just then, Vic contacted him.

"Come in Sargent dude. Sargent dude, are you there?"

"Vic?" he asked, confused. Why would Vic be calling?

"Got some big news for ya dude," Vic said. "The Blues are up to no good! One of 'em, think his name was Tucker, is making up crazy conspiracies about Red and Blue. Don't believe him! He's a lying Blue."

"What!? Why that... Understood Vic. I'll let my men know, ASAP!" Sarge said, and the connection was cut.

"What was that about, Red?" Simmons asked.

"Son... just what are you tying to do?" Sarge asked, bringing his shotgun to bear on Tucker.

"Gah! What?! Nothing! I just want to find my friend!" Tucker exclaimed. A high speed sniper round impacted the floor by Sarge's feet.

"I'd think carefully, Red. Black patched this guy up once already," Burgundy said warningly. Sarge looked up in shock. Burgundy recognized him? And Black had treated a _Blue?_

"What's going on?" Caboose asked.

"Tucker's been tagged. Someone's hired a Freelancer to take you out Tucker," Tex revealed. "Any idea why?"

"I can't say," Tucker said, going for mysterious.

"Keeping secrets? I find that attractive," Tex said. Sarge had a feeling she was smirking under that helmet.

"You do?!" Tucker asked, excited.

"In attractive people, yeah," Tex shot back. Burgundy chuckled.

"Burn," he said with a laugh. Simmons nodded.

"You got owned man. Owned," he said. Refocusing, Burgundy looked toward the Freelancer in the room.

"Who?" he asked. And somehow, Tex knew exactly what he was asking.

"A guy I know from training. Name's Wyoming," she answered. Tucker laughed.

"Finally! A name dumber than Doughnut!" he exclaimed.

"Hey!" Burgundy barked at him. He got a flat look in return before he sighed. "Yeah. Okay," he said, lowering his head. This, of course, got Sarge all kinds of freaked out.

"DOUGHNUT?!" he yelled. Burgundy chuckled and took off his helmet.

"You were bound to find out sometime. Dex and Rick already know," he said, grinning down at his CO, favorite Blood Gulch rifle across his lap.

"But... but... that would mean..." Sarge sputtered. Eagle Eye rolled his eyes at his floundering CO.

"Rick, wanna help me out here man?" he asked, turning to the Maroon Agent in the room. Sarge watched as Simmons raised his hands, then clearly said,

"Agent mode," and shifted into the familiar gray streaked maroon armor with the all too familiar gray visor. "Hey Red. Do you see it now? Or is the illusion still too strong?" Agent Maroon asked. Red shook his head.

"I should have known it was you as soon as you started sassing me," he said. Maroon snorted.

"Nah~! You should have known it was me when I started going by 'Rick'!" he countered. Red froze.

"Then... Dex is... ?" he asked, dread growing in his stomach. Maroon chuckled. It wasn't a pleasant sound.

"Oh, Dex has got a whole lot of payback stored up for you, Red. Once he finds out you know, the kid gloves are off!" he said, voice filled with dark glee.

"Okay. Would someone please explain what is going on here?" Tucker asked, staring at the two Red Agents in confusion. Maroon chuckled again, pulling out a knife.

"Tucker, the world as you know it would crumble into nothingness if we filled you in all at once. Best you do it in stages," he said. Eagle Eye shook his head.

"Back to Tucker being tagged please! Tex, anything else you'd like to tell us about this Wyoming character?" he asked, looking toward the aforementioned woman.

"Everyone in the division was paired with an A.I. and codenamed after a state," she said.

"Beats being named after your armor. Poor Orange," Rick said, shaking his head.

"One for each state? So, there's fifty of you?" Tucker asked, just to be sure.

"Forty-nine, remember?" Tex countered.

"Oh! Yeah. That's right. Man, poor Florida," Tucker said. Eagle snorted and Rick barked out a short laugh. "What?"

"We should introduce you to Flowdie some time," Eagle said, swinging his left leg idly off the edge of his walkway.

"Why?" Tex asked, wary.

"Well... he once told me he was a Freelancer," Eagle began, then passed it off to Rick.

"I asked him what his codename was before Hippie, and he told me, 'well, it had a lot of citrus,'" the maroon agent said, leaving the conclusion to them.

"Wait. So there _are_ fifty Freelancers?" Tucker asked. The Red Agents shrugged.

"Maybe. Maybe not," Red said. "Tex, anything else we might need to know about Wyoming?"

"He's a sniper," she said.

"A.I?" Burgundy asked.

"When did you put your helmet back on?" Tucker asked. He got a shrug in reply and sighed.

"Gamma," Tex said in answer to the Red Agent's question.

"Your armor all had special features right? What was Wyoming's?" Maroon asked.

"I... I don't know," Tex admitted. "Look, I still owe Tucker one. I'll take care of Wyoming, then we're square. Deal?"

"You're offering to protect me from a Freelancer who wants to kill me. What am I going to say? No?" Tucker asked.

"I'll take that as a 'yes,'" Tex said smugly.

"Eureka's Hammer I got it! I put a listening device in..." Red began, only for Rick to cut him off.

"Already got that one."

"Oh. Right. Um..."

"I rewired the bomb into a homing beacon," Rick offered.

"Can I push the button!?" Caboose asked.

"Sure ya can!" Red said, pulling out the remote. "It's this one," he said, pointing out the correct button. Caboose cheered and pushed it. A beacon appeared in Red's HUD. He didn't even notice that Rick was already fiddling with a teleporter behind him.

/*/

Back in prison on Sidewinder, Church coughed. "You okay man? I didn't know robot's could cough," Orange said.

"I don't know man," Church said, shaking his head. Orange sighed and looked over toward the guard.

"If only he'd come closer..." he said, almost wistful. Church, once again, shuffled back a little. Orange was creepy! Especially since he was used to Grif.

/?/

A/N: So? What do you think? Did Sarge figure it out too quickly? Should Tex be more confused? I crave Reviews!

A/N 2: Dex is having fun messing with Church's head, yes he is. Also, fixed a minor continuity error concerning Maroon and which mode his armor was in. Spelling and grammar have also been checked over. 8/19/16


	26. Episode 24

Claimer: I own Marley and Project Red.

Disclaimer: Red vs Blue and Project Freelancer belong to Rooster Teeth. Halo belongs to Budgie and/or Microsoft. X-Box belongs to... eh. You get the idea.

 **Episode 24:** Snow World's Mad Max

Orange eyed the guard at the end of the hall. Huh. Looks like the last one quit. And it had only been a few hours since they'd been captured. He grinned. Looks like he just broke his last record. He wondered how long it would take him to break this one. "Hey! Hey buddy! Yeah, you! Come here a second! Don't like yelling across the hall if I can help it!" he called.

"Oh no! I was warned about you! You sent Phil to the shrink! And the Doc! At the same time! I'm not going near you!" the guard yelled back, actually taking a step _backwards_. Orange groaned. It was no fun if they ran away before he could even get started!

"Oh come on! You're a Red! Red's don't treat teammates like this! Blues maybe but Reds? No way man! Come on! Let me out?" he yelled, reaching a hand plaintively between the bars of their cell.

"Thanks for the support, Orange. Way to be a team player," Church remarked dryly, leaning against the opposite wall. Orange sighed, his arm falling pathetically back down to his side, before he shook his head and sat back down.

"Eh, it was worth a shot. Besides, I've got a lot more people waiting on me than you," he said as he leaned his head back, though only he knew he said the last part with a smirk.

"There's no 'I' in 'Team', Orange," Church said. The smirk slid off Orange's face. Oh, no way was he using _that_ one on him, uhn-uh, nope!

"Yeah? Well there's no 'U' either. So if 'I'm not on the team, and 'U're not on the team, then no-one is on the team! The team sucks!" he countered. ' _Ha, take that Blue_.' Church switched tracks.

"What I can't figure out is, why are the Reds still here?" he said, looking out between the bars. Orange blinked. Huh? "Tex already wiped out all the Blues. Why wouldn't they just pull out?" This made the Agent chuckle a bit.

"That... would be logical. As someone who's taken orders from Red Command for the past three years, I can honestly say... logic has no place with them," Orange told the Blue. Church hummed.

"Yeah. Sounds a lot like Blue Command too," he admitted. Orange smirked. Another Blue might just be tearing down the illusion. Sweet.

/*/

Meanwhile, in The Teleporter Nexus... "Alright. I've set the coordinates to Sidewinder. Everybody ready?" Rick asked, standing opposite the teleporter he'd rigged.

"I'm not going through that thing," Tucker said, adamant. Rick decided, a helmet look wasn't going to cut it, and took the thing off to properly glare at Tucker.

"You're going through even if I have to bodily toss you, Blue. Now get!" he growled, jabbing a finger at the teleporter.

"Funny. That's exactly what I told him," Eagle remarked, still happily sitting on an upper walkway, rifle sitting quite naturally in his hands. "Only, I had Lucky out," the sniper finished, patting said rifle fondly. Rick pondered this, head tilted to the side, then stood up straight and pulled out three knives. In each hand. Tucker gulped and ran through the teleporter. The scream of pain and disbelief was loud enough they heard him through the teleporter.

"Well, you know what they say, 'ladies first,'" Rick remarked darkly, a feral smirk on his face as he regarded the teleporter, before turning to Tex. "If that saying offends you, go ahead and kick Caboose through ahead of you," he said, smirk lightening and a mischievous twinkle entering his eye. Marley would have been proud.

"No. I'll go," Tex said, walking calmly through the teleporter.

"Geronimo!" Eagle yelled, flying through as he jumped from his perch.

"Go on Blue!" Rick said, pushing Caboose.

"See you on the other side!" Sarge told his second in command before he too crossed through. Rick smiled at the teleporter.

"I gotta tell Marley thanks for all those crash courses in teleporter technology," he said before finally crossing over to Sidewinder.

/*/

Bored out of his skull, Dex decided to start singing. "Nobody knows the trouble I've seen~. No body knows but Jesus~."

"Would you shut up?" Church asked, apparently over his whole 'Orange is a crazy, creepy, scary, discount Freelancer!' thing.

"Sure sure... as soon as you find me a metal cup to drag across the prison bars," Dex said with a nod, smirking under his helmet.

"Please... stop. Just... stop," Church moaned, dropping his head into his hands. Dex chuckled.

"As a Blood Gulch Blue, I wouldn't expect you to understand," he said. Church would have given him an odd look, if their attention hadn't been grabbed by a fire fight not far from their cell.

"What's going on out there?" Church asked, standing quickly. Dex chuckled, climbing to his feet at a slightly more leisurely pace.

"Well, it could be one of two things. A, our guys have come to bust us out. Or b, Tex came back to finish clearing out Sidewinder," he said, then chuckled again at the shudder the thought of Tex going on a rampage got out of Church. Man, he really liked riling the Blue up far too much. Glory to the Red Team! Whoo!

"I don't know. Sounds like whoever's fighting them is winning. Couldn't possibly be our guys," Church said, then froze. "Oh no! It's Tex! She's gonna kill us!" Dex rolled his eyes.

"No. She'll let us out _then_ kill us... or make us her slaves. Also... _your_ guys would be loosing, _my_ guys wouldn't be making this kind of noise. There would be either a lot more explosions and laughter, or it would be silent. If it were Rick and/or Frank, it would be pretty much silent. With Red thrown in... well. Let's just say Red has a thing for shotguns and insulting one liners," he said. Church stared at him.

"That... is simultaneously the coolest and scariest thing I've ever heard. Mostly due to your matter-of-fact delivery," he said. Dex shrugged.

"I try," he said with a smirk. "Hey! Screw! Aren't you going to try and help? Oink Oink!" Orange yelled at the guard, who shook his head and ran off.

"What was the 'oink oink' for?" Church asked. Dex shrugged again.

"I don't know. Felt like it," he said. Church shook his head. This guy... They heard a punch land and a single set of footsteps headed their way. A moment later there was a click and a white armored SPARTAN appeared in front of their cage.

"Hello, Church," he said in a British accent. Dex tensed. Marley had told him about the Freelancers, and only one of them had a British accent. ' _But what is Wyoming, one of their top Agents, doing here?_ ' the Red Agent pondered, not to fond of the idea that Freelancer Agents were nosing about. Not that Tex was much different, but she was... well. She was Tex, and Tex was special. Always had been. Not as special as Hawaii, but not every state could claim surfing and volcanoes as state trademarks. Or was Hawaii awesome and Texas special? Oh wait! Church was talking.

"Wyoming? What are you doing here?" Church asked, confirming his identity. Dex shot him a look, but refrained from speaking. Something told him, Church would be able to get more out of the Freelancer than he would. And he certainly wanted information from this crazy Freelancer.

"I've been hired to do a job with your little friend Tucker. Seems he's discovered some information someone else isn't happy about," the sniper said. Dex felt his eye twitch.

"Okay, who's this Cracker?" he asked, not passing up the chance to call the Freelancer a derogatory name.

"Eh, he's just some scumbag bounty hunter that was in the same division as Tex," Church answered, and Dex twitched again. Was that all Church thought it was? How could he not even know what his ex-girlfriend was mixed up with?! Especially as he seemed the obsessive type.

"Ah yes. Dear Tex," Wyoming drawled. Dex fought back a growl. This haole was really getting on his nerves! He was actually _enjoying_ the prospect of killing! Not to mention the mental torture this must be giving Church, knowing his team was in danger and he couldn't do _anything_. "After I take care of your little friend Tucker, I'll be taking care of _her_ as well."

"When I get out of here..." Church tried to threaten, but Wyoming cut him off like the jerkwad he is.

"But you won't. Everyone here is dead now. No-one even knows where you are," the white armored Freelancer declared. Dex nearly snorted at that. He knew about the homing device in Church's mechanical body after all, and he'd heard it activate. Project Red, and likely the Blues, knew where they were and one way or another, they were going to get out of here. "So now I suppose you'll just have to stave to death. Ha ha ha! Cheerio!" Wyoming said before running off. Church immediately turned to Dex.

"We gotta find a way to escape, Orange," he said. Dex shook his head.

"Since we're going to be working together, and I'm not on a job right now... call me Dex. Way easier," he said.

"O... kay? We need..." Dex held up a hand, cutting the Blue off.

"Heard you the first time Church. Heard you the first time. And... you have a homing device in your armor that's already been activated. We _don't_ need to find a way to escape... unless you're going stark raving mad and don't think you can wait two to three more hours for my guys to find us. Then, by all means. Find a way to escape," he said. Church huffed and went to plot in the corner.

/*/

Rick blinked and dodged out of the way of a black fist. "Whoa! Hey! Watch the visor!" he remarked, bobbing to the side. The armor growled and the Agent rolled his eyes.

"I hate you," Tucker ground out, like he was chewing his words before spitting them out. Rick shrugged.

"Hey, you wanna save your pal? This was the only way to get to him. Especially if you wanted to get to him _quickly_. As in before he gets captured, imprisoned, and tortured to the brink of insanity for information he likely doesn't even have," he said. Burgundy snorted.

"You suck at motivational speeches," he remarked. Rick shrugged.

"Eh, I wasn't trying to be motivational. I was just trying to get him to see enough of my side not to attempt taking my head off. Attempt being the key word there," he countered, dodging another swipe. "Oi! What did I say about the visor buddy?" he quipped, dodging around another jab.

"Tucker! I am so glad to see you! Here, let me help you..." Caboose started, but got cut off by Burgundy humming, grabbing the still fuming Tucker and tossing him in a snowbank, then rubbing his 'face' in it.

"Whoa. Issues anyone?" Rick asked, quirking an eyebrow at his unusually violent teammate.

"This guy... oh, this guy," Burgundy ground out. "He wouldn't stop complaining about _everything_ man! 'My back hurts, my leg itches, these stitches ache, the sun's bright, where's Church?' UGH! He was driving me _mad_!" Rick hummed 'sympathetically.'

"Oh, the horror," he drawled. Burgundy growled.

"Dex on his birthday. Times two. With no beer," he said. Rick winced with a hiss.

"Okay. I see what you mean. Yikes."

"Um- _hum_ ," Burgundy said before walking out of their cave. Rick shook his head and pulled Tucker out of the snow. Funnily enough, the black stuff had come off. "You're welcome!" Burgundy shouted over his shoulder. Rick shook his head.

"That guy..." he muttered, then turned to Red. "So. What's the plan?"

"First, we need to locate Lopez and get our battle plans out of his head. Then we can take down O'Malley and head home!" Red responded. Rick sighed, shaking his head.

"Avoiding Dex isn't going to make the reckoning any better Red. We should find Dex and Church first, knock O'Malley out, grab Lopez, and _then_ head home. Where I will then proceed to make popcorn and watch Dex lay you out like Sunday diner before dropping you like third period French," he said.

"Right. I suppose we could get Dex," Red relented, though Rick though he could hear a slight wince in the Sargent's voice. He smirked. Count on Dex to annoy Sarge without even being there.

/*/

Church sighed. Nothing for it. He'd have to go ghost. "Okay Dex. I've been putting off something I could do to get us out. But I have to warn you, it might scare ya a little bit," he said. The other man scoffed.

"I faced down Covenant Hordes and angry androids. You're not going to scare me," he said. Church shrugged.

"Okay then. Here goes," he said and prepared to jump out of his body when the door opened.

"Wow. Telekinetic abilities. Nice. Kinda scary but... nice," Dex remarked. Church was confused. Who opened the doors?

"No. That wasn't me. Someone on the outside must have opened them," he remarked. Dex shrugged.

"Who cares? They're open. Let's go," he said and walked on out. Church shrugged and followed. Who was he to look a gift horse in the mouth?

/*/

While Church was running, fanatically thinking of a way to save Tex from Wyoming, and Dex was following, wondering when they'd meet up with the others, said others were getting gloated at by O'Malley. Tex was nowhere to be seen, like usual. "Ah-HAHAHAHA! You fools have fallen right into my trap! Now you will see the folly of your follies!" the mad A.I. yelled

"O'Malley... you're a few apples short of an orchard," Rick remarked, still in his Agent armor. O'Malley paused, looking at the group.

"Where did you two come from? And where are..." he asked, pointing at Burgundy and Maroon, but got cut off by Burgundy.

"Spaceship," the sniper said, pulling out his favorite Blood Gulch rifle, Lucky.

"ANYWAY! Now that we're all working together... there's a slight possibility that you're going down, O'Malley. With this much incompetency, there's no telling _what_ might happen!" Rick yelled.

"Fools! My metallic friend is the only alley I need! Lopez! Activate weather control routine!" O'Malley countered. Lopez nodded with an 'okay' and began to glow before lightning sparked around him and then floating, light orange, symbols started slowly circling around him.

"Not gonna lie. That... is pretty dang awesome right there," Eagle said, watching the light show.

"Careful there Burgundy. Your farm boy is showing," Rick warned, though he had to admit, it was rather impressive. He ignored the glare he felt from Eagle and asked, "Are those runic symbols a sign of some ancient technology?"

"No. I used to draw them in my binder during study hall! I always wanted to use them for something. Aren't they cool?!" Doc answered, causing the Red Agent to blink. Huh, looked like the medic was still hanging on in there. Good to know. ' _Huh. Doc must have better mental discipline that I gave him credit for_ ,' Rick considered, ' _being able to fight of an A.I, especially an A.I like Omega, is no small feat._ '

"Shut up!" O'Malley hissed.

"Oh Sampson's back hair! They've discovered our secret weapon!" Sarge exclaimed.

"Wait... when was this?! Why did I not know of this!? Sarge... what did you _do?!_ " Rick demanded, turning to his CO.

"I developed a weather control device, but I was missing one critical piece of technology to make it work!" Sarge said over Rick.

"WHEN?! And WHAT!?" the maroon soldier asked, nearing hysteria.

"When I was building Lopez of course," Sarge answered calmly. Rick snarled.

"Of course. How would I have been so blind," he remarked scathingly. Sarge actually flinched from the venom in his second in command's voice.

"Yes! And now that I have found those 'D' batteries, the universe will be mine! Mwahahahaha!" O'Malley declared, then stared in shock as the suck up grabbed his commanding officer and body slammed him into the ground. "Um..." the A.I. trailed off in confusion. Usually, it was him getting inside someone's head that made them act so out of character, but this... this was new.

"You crazy, stupid, shotgun obsessed, secret mad scientist!" the maroon soldier yelled, loud enough to be clearly heard over the wind, which was really starting to pick up. "Why did you make it powered by 'D' batteries?! And how could you not find any?! For a guy who can build robots practically in his sleep and rig up bombs and listening devices and a _freaking weather control device_ you are, without doubt, among the stupidest dregs of the military! At least _tell us_ when you're developing something as monumental as a weather control device! We could have splurged for some 'D' batteries and had a snow day! In _Blood Gulch!_ The Blues would have surrendered just to get away from the heat and play in the snow for a day! But _no_! Sarge knows best! Sarge doesn't need to tell his subordinates things like that! Well ya know what? I'm gonna listen to _Grif_ now! How do ya like _them_ apples?!" he continued to yell, grinding his boot into Sarge's chest and driving the older man deeper into the snow.

"Wait... you seriously couldn't find 'D' batteries?" Tucker asked, so far past bewildered he'd passed right back into calmness.

"Only at gas stations, and..." Sarge began, only for Rick to slam his foot into his stomach and press, crouching down to get in his face.

"I _said_ , we could have _splurged_! Our budget is good! We have the money, as crazy as that sounds. And easily half the components you used probably cost as much as twenty packs of gas station batteries you lug-nut!" Rick yelled, furious.

"This is better than HBO!" O'Malley remarked, "too bad I don't have any popcorn."

"YOU STAY OUT OF THIS!" Rick yelled, throwing four knives at the A.I. controlled medic, not even bothering to look away from Sarge. O'Malley managed to dodge, but he was now wary of the slightly crazed soldier. Those knives were _very_ accurate for such a distance, not to mention a blind throw, and mostly accounted for his dodges. No doubt about it. That man was dangerous. That was when Church ran up to Tucker.

"Hey man, who's screaming? Led us right to you," he asked, only to get distracted by a hiss behind him. Turning, he saw Dex looking toward... "Why is Simmons pinning Sarge to the snow? And where did all those knives come from?"

"I was afraid of this," Dex muttered before he started jogging toward his teammates. "Yo! Sorry to break up the rant session, which I think is _way_ overdue to be honest, but we've kinda got a Code Freelancer on our hands. Not to mention a Code Seven right in front of us. So... mind finishing this _after_ we take down O'Malley?" he said. Rick snarled, but got off Sarge.

"Go Agent Mode, Red," he growled, pulling out _more_ knives. Sarge complied, his armor gaining gray accents and a gray visor, along with a slightly more streamlined look like the other Agents. Church shook his head.

"I'm lost," he muttered.

"Make you a deal. You tell us about Freelancer, we'll tell you about us," Dex offered. Church shrugged.

"Not much of a deal, but better than nothing. You got a deal," he said, holding out his hand. They shook on it, then scattered as O'Malley got tired of waiting and fired a rocket at them.

"You foolish fools will never defeat me!" the A.I. boasted. Rick hummed, grinning under his helmet.

"I take it you've never heard of Project Red," he remarked. Orange laughed and the Blues felt a chill go down their spines. It was almost like when O'Malley laughed with Doc's voice, only darker, more serious, and filled with promise. Grim promise, of pain and misery. It was unlike any laugh they'd ever heard.

"No. I don't think he has Maroon. Pity. He might have saved himself some pain if he had," Agent Orange remarked, cold as the snowy planet upon which he stood.

"Hey! Don't forget about us!" Church said, walking forward. Orange hummed.

"Yes... and we have you lot. Okay! Here's the plan. Church, you go with Burgundy, see if you can't get a vantage point on this guy and pin him down. Tucker! You take Caboose and Red, stop anyone from interrupting us! Maroon! You see if you can't find a way to extract Omega from Doc's mind. I'll distract him," he said, pointing to the soldiers as he spoke. Church seemed a little wary, but did as he was told. And that... was when everything went wrong at once. Again. Lopez's lightning struck Church, causing the bomb parts still in his armor to activate and start a one minute count down. Seeing this, Orange tackled O'Malley and knocked the poor medic out. "Red! Disarm that bomb!" he yelled. Red was already moving, and grumbled at the other Agent.

"Don't tell me what to do Grif."

"Technically, you're talking back to a senior Agent, Red. I could report you to Black," Maroon noted, watching Red take the panel off Church.

"Honestly, don't you even instal something above the waist?" a rather uncomfortable Church asked, trying not to shift too much while the red messed about down... he wished there was something he could focus on besides... _that_. There was a spark and Red stood up with a curse. "What? What's wrong?!" Church asked, panicking slightly. He didn't want to die! He had so much to live for!

"That lightning strike not only started the bomb, but it fused the detonator! It's impossible for me to disarm the bomb!" Red revealed. Maroon growled and pushed the other man aside.

"Let me see it!" he ordered, though by then he was already kneeling to get a better look. A few moments later and he too stood with a curse. "Unfortunately, I can't disarm this thing either! I modified it into a homing beacon, but had to leave some of the bomb components in there as we didn't have enough time for me to completely remove it! Sadly, this means that it's so messed up already, that there is no way to shut it off!" he said. Tucker stole O'Malley's rocket launcher off his unconscious body and pointed it at Church.

"Whoa! Tucker! What are you doing are you insane put that down!" Church rambled, feeling a bit hysteric himself.

"If I blow you up before the bomb goes off, there's at least a small chance the rest of us will live," Tucker said calmly. Orange palmed his visor and shook his head.

"Forget this, I'm taking a nap," he muttered, walking off to rest against a nearby rock. Maroon shook his head at his teammate, but went over to join him. If it had been a normal bomb, they might have been far enough away to escape serious injury, but seeing as this was a ten megaton bomb, all bets were off. "You did inform Marley of the situation before you came, right?" Dex asked Rick. The other man shrugged.

"Not really. Receptions a little spotty out here. Then again, this is Marley we're talking about. Something tells me she knows what's happening," he said. Dex nodded, humming slightly.

"Got a point there."

"But the rocket will kill me!" Church protested.

"Ten seconds!" Maroon piped up unhelpfully.

"You're going to die anyway when the bomb goes off," Orange pointed out, pulling out a knife and practicing flipping it around.

"What can I tell ya pal, misery loves company," Church remarked.

"Five seconds!" Maroon yelled.

"Sorry Church," Tucker said, moving to pull the trigger on the rocket launcher.

"Man this blows, you guys suck," Church remarked. And that was when Wyoming shot the rocket out of Tucker's hand.

"What the heck!?" Tucker yelled, looking up to the ridge where they could just barely make out the form of Wyoming against the snow. Mostly from his orange visor and black gun.

"Sorry Private Tucker, but I always get my man!" the Brit remarked, reloading. "Say good bye, Butch."

"Uh, guys? Sorry to interrupt but... zero seconds," Maroon said. Everyone scattered, bracing for detonation, but they got a dial tone instead.

"What? Oh son of a..." Church began, but was once again interrupted. This time by blowing up as the bomb components finally detonated.

/*/

The world turned white as ringing and pain took over his senses. Red knew he was delirious, but after a while, he could hear the others. "Bomb went off," he heard himself say, or did he just think it?

"Where are we? Are we dead?" Rick's voice said from somewhere to his left. Red couldn't help thinking, he sounded remarkably coherent for nearly getting blown to pieces.

"I don't want to be dead! I want to be alive! Or! A cowboy!" Caboose said, and his voice was also remarkably steady for the ordeal they went through.

"Dead! Aw man, tomorrow was all you could eat day at the chow hall! I wanted to challenge Dex to an eating competition," Eagle's voice whined.

"We're not dead. We're... I don't know where!" Red countered as the world turned white once more.

/*/

Pain. It consumed him. Red groaned and turned his head to the side, but even that hurt. "Welcome back to the world of the living, Red. You boys sure had an adventure, didn't you?" He knew that voice. He knew that voice!

"Black?" he croaked. Huh? What happened to his voice! It had been fine just a moment ago!

"Easy soldier. I had a time patching you up after that bomb went off. Sadly, O'Malley forced Medical Officer Defrense's body to leave before I arrived at the scene of the detonation. He's likely to also be alive, but it may take a while for me to track him back down. It seems he took Lopez with him. I'm sorry," Black said. Red groaned. Great. The psycho was on the loose and he couldn't even help hunt him!

"How... how long..." he tried, but the words didn't want to come out. A straw was inserted into his mouth by a familiar steady hand.

"You've been out for about five hours. It may take you a few days to a few weeks to get back to a hundred percent, it's all up to you," Black said, her youthful face sliding into view with a tired smile. "You lot were lucky that bomb wasn't any bigger, Red. You'd have been out far longer if it had."

"I built it as a ten-megaton," he admitted, then got smacked on his already tender head. "Yow!"

"You idiot! Even if that had been detonated in Blue Base while you were hunkered down at Red Base you'd _still_ have needed me to patch you up! Sweet mother of Godiva Red, were you even thinking?!" Black scolded. Red felt himself flush.

"Rick..." he tried, once again, but Black was livid and beyond 'reason.'

"Oh, I'm sure he _tried_ to make it right after he found out. He seems to be one of maybe _three_ Blood Gulch Soldiers with even _half_ a working brain that _also_ have even a _shred_ of self preservation instincts! If not for me, you'd probably be dead! Or at the _very_ least in a coma! A _long_ coma, like... three months! Good golly man, think before you bomb!" she ranted, eyes going just a little wild. Had he the option, Red would have backed away from the five foot two bundle of weapon toting feminine fury. As it was, he was flat on his back on an... was it an operating table or a bed? "Look at me when I'm talking to you Red!"

"What am I on?" he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Painkillers. Now tell me, do you have a lick of sense?" Marley remarked in an almost offhand manner. Red stared at her.

"Not what I meant. Is this a bed, or an operating table?" he asked again.

"Either or, depending on the situation. Now answer my question!" Marley barked, grabbing a randomly appearing lamp thing and shining it in his face.

"Gah! Yes! I have a lick of sense! Now get that infernal light out of my face!" Red yelled. Marley growled, but put the lamp back where she'd grabbed it from and sat down in her swivel chair with a huff, crossing her arms and legs. If Red hadn't known better, he'd have said she was pouting.

"Should have known you were the one to build that bomb. What set it off?" she asked, having apparently calmed down a little.

"It got hit by lightning," Red said, looking to the side where he could see his men, along with the Blues, laid out on similar bed/tables. Marley sighed.

"Right. Well, I've set a course for my armor supplier. He'll get you fixed up right. I'll have to ask you and my other Agents to go Standard though. The Director of Project Freelancer's going even further down the moral drain and this crew is about to be getting a lot more unwanted attention. Best if you lay low for a while," she said, looking at the other prone forms in the med bay aboard her ship. "Besides... I'm not quite ready for the Blues to know about us being... well. Us," she said. "It's much more fun to keep them guessing."

"What happened out there, Marley?" Red asked, ignoring her childishness for the moment. She snorted.

"You know as well as I do, Red," she said, turning back to him for a moment before picking up a syringe. "But I do know it's best if you go back to sleep for a while." Red tried to edge away, but she grabbed his unarmored arm in a vice like grip and the needle went in, releasing the tranquilizer into his blood stream and knocking him out within moments.

/*/

It was disorienting, waking up in a med bay after an explosion. "Sorry Red. It's for the best." Wait... was that... ? "Oh? They're waking up left and right."

"Marley," he wheezed, lolling his head to the right. Sure enough, there she was, smirking at him, pulling a syringe out of Red.

"Yeah. It's me. Pulled you out of a crater on Sidewinder. Do me a favor though and... don't let the Blues know about me? Or... at least... my involvement? And go Standard. Your crew's about to get a _lot_ of unwanted attention. That means no missions, no interrogations, and no heroics. Unless it's Tex. Go ahead and help Tex," she said. Dex shrugged, as best he could.

"Sure thing. You gonna knock me out too?" he asked. She smiled softly and shook her head.

"I don't need to worry about you getting up and causing trouble for not only yourself but everyone around you," she said, grabbing an orange cup and handing it, along with a few pills he assumed were painkillers, to the grateful soldier.

"So, I get to watch you work until you drop us off at some random point in the galaxy?" he asked, kicking back the pills and then sipping his water slowly. Marley chuckled.

"Hardly. You get to sleep as much as you want and have your meals in bed while I keep the others sedated until I clear them for light duty again. Then, I'm going to drop ya'll off at an abandoned base where there's nothing to do but walk and talk and fix things," she said. Dex shrugged again, already closing his eyes.

"That sounds nice," he said muzzily before the dark embrace of sleep welcomed him like an old friend once again.

/*/

Marley watched Dex slip back into sleep before gathering his cup and completing her rounds. "How're my guys?" Flowdie asked softly, out of sight from any of the beds, just in case one of them were awake. Marley sighed, mixing the last cocktail and hooking it up to the last IV line.

"Good, all things considered," she said, looking them all over with a critical eye. "I just wish we could have gotten there in time to catch O'Malley."

"Could you have gotten him out of the medic?" Flowdie asked, walking in and wrapping his arms around Marley. He frowned and laid his head on her shoulder. "You're shaking," he whispered, concern thick in his voice. Marley whimpered, nearly collapsing into his arms.

"Stress. It's a killer," she said in a weak attempt at humor. Flowdie's frown deepened.

"Marlene... please," he breathed, nuzzling her. She sighed and turned around in his arms, throwing her own around his neck and burying her head in his chest.

"I could have lost them, Butch. I could have lost them all in a blink... and where was I? Halfway across the galaxy fighting grunts!" she whispered into the fabric of his shirt. Flowide sighed, but held her tighter.

"You were working, Marley. You were doing your job. They were doing theirs. You are not responsible for this," he said softly, rubbing a hand along her quivering back. She whimpered again, her shivers growing more pronounced.

"But I knew. I knew it would happen. And I left. I left _right_ after patching Tucker up. I could have been there! You could have been there! Heck, George could have been there! Mich! Louie!" she ranted quietly. Flowdie's eyes widened as he felt something wet on his shirt. Surely she wasn't... ?

"Shush. What happened, happened and there's no changing it. The only thing we can do, is pick up the shattered pieces and move on. They're going to make it through, you know that. So stop fretting, and let's get them kitted out. Okay?" Flowdie said, pulling back a little and laying a finger over her mouth. He fought not to freeze at the sight of her tears, but it was a near thing. Never, _never_ , had he seen Marley cry. Ever. It was... shocking to see such a strong woman reduced to tears like this.

"You're right. Of course you're right," Marley said, getting herself under control. "Thanks for the hug. I needed it," she said, voice still soft and subdued, before she vanished into the cockpit, leaving him alone with a bunch of unconscious Sim Troopers.

"Everyone needs a shoulder to cry on from time to time. And I'm happy to be yours, Marlene," Flowdie told the still air.

"Dude... you're sappy," Dex muttered sleepily. Flowdie jumped, surprised that someone was awake. "Chill. It's just me. Marley didn't give the others a chance to wake up. Of course, Red came to while she was preparing our tranquilizer, but eh, details."

"You're rather chatty for a guy who got blown up," Flowdie remarked.

"Eh eh eh!" Dex said, waggling a finger. "Blown up equals dead. I am not dead, ergo, I did not get blown up," he said, smiling widely once he finished.

"She's got you duped up on painkillers, doesn't she?" Flowdie remarked dryly.

"To the gills!" Dex answered, far to perky. Flowdie groaned and left the med bay.

"Do us all a favor and go back to sleep Dex," he said. The soldier laughed and called out after him,

"Okey-dokie Flowdie!" The ex-Freelancer shook his head.

"Note to self: stay away from drugged Sims," he muttered as he made his way to the on board gym.

/*/

When they landed and Dex was told this was their stop, he couldn't help giving Marley a bland look. "Yes. I know it's a desert, but come on! Think of all the running gags you could make out of this!" she defended.

"Like what? We got blasted into an even _more_ post apocalyptic future where even the zombies got wiped out in a plague or something?" Dex asked. Marley nodded.

"That'll work," she said.

"You're nuts, ya know that?" Dex asked, helping unload Eagle. Marley shrugged.

"Eh, all the best people are," she remarked lightly. Dex shook his head and went back inside for Rick. Soon, the whole Blood Gulch Crew had been unloaded and scattered across a fifty foot area, though all of them were on their backs. Dex saluted Marley saying,

"So long and thanks for all the help," before he found a spot and lay down as well. Marley chuckled and shook her head before she got back on The Ghost and left them to their 'fate.'

"Have fun boys," she whispered as she departed. "And heaven help your enemies."

/*/

It took them between ten minutes to an hour before all the Reds were awake, and once they were, Dex proposed they play a trick on the Blues. "Say what?" Eagle asked with a grin when Dex told him the plan.

"We make the Blues think that the bomb destroyed the present and that, consequently, we were blasted into the future!" Dex said.

"Fudge it, I'm in!" Eagle said, raising a hand. Rick sighed, but agreed.

"How 'bout we make out that the whole Project Red thing was just a dream?" Red offered. Dex's grin turned savage.

"Oh... I could have some fun with that!" he remarked. "Let's do it!" And so, when Caboose woke up, they put their plan into action. It was laughably easy for them to convince the young man that not only was he in the future, but that there was no Project Red and they had used spray paint to make them _look_ like they were a part of Project Red. The rest of the time was spent writing a play and looking around for weapons and or vehicles. A few minutes after Eagle finished his skit, Tucker woke up.

"Mug... ugh... uh. What happened?" the cyan soldier asked

"Oh hey! Guys! He's awake!" Eagle exclaimed, standing over the prone Blue.

"I still want to know why I don't get a laser gun," Dex grumbled, walking back over to where Eagle, Tucker, and Caboose were.

"Shut up, stupid," Rick shot back.

"Guys! Tucker's awake!" Eagle yelled, still looking at said Blue, who was starting to get a little weirded out.

"Huh?" Rick said, coming to stand over Tucker as well. "Hey hey, take it easy Tucker. You've been out a while," he told the Blue, seeing him trying to get up.

"And people think _I'm_ lazy," Dex piped up, coming to stand behind Eagle and Rick. Tucker groaned, shaking his head as he stood, an SMG in his hands.

"What's going on?" he asked, looking around. "Who are you people?"

/*/

Dex was grinning. Oh man, this was awesome! It was going to be so easy to pull this off! Tucker already didn't know who they were. Though, he had a feeling the color scheme would tip him off. "Ah! He has amnesia!" decided Eagle, making Dex bite back a chuckle. "Tucker, don't worry. You are safe. We are the Reds. We are your mortal enemies," Eagle said, then paused. "Wait. That didn't sound right."

"Ya think?" Dex muttered as Caboose ran up and claimed Tucker's attention.

"Tucker! I am so glad you are alive," the simple soldier told him.

"Caboose? Still so dumb... but you look so different!" Tucker exclaimed.

"We're in the future!" Caboose 'whispered,' "things are very shiny here."

"I can't believe he bought that," Eagle whispered to Dex. The weapons expert nearly snorted.

"This is Caboose we're talking about. Of course he bought it."

"The future? Oh, I can't wait to hear this one," Tucker drawled. Red took that as his cue to drop down behind the confused Blue.

"Obviously, Lopez's weather matrix combined with the power of bomb twenty-one to create an explosion so large, it caused a temporal rift in time that cascaded through..." Red 'explained,' before Tucker cut him off.

"Whoa, wait a second wait a second... I don't understand. How are we in the future, and what happened to your armor?"

"Sarge! Can we do the skit now?!" Eagle asked, really excited.

"Yeah!" Caboose exclaimed.

"Yes!" Rick also exclaimed.

"I don't want to do that stupid skit," Dex complained.

"Alright. But only because I want to see Grif miserable!" Red remarked. "I miss the old days!"

"Yeah yeah, ham it up Red. As soon as we get back to Base... it's _on_ ," Dex said over their secure channel. Red swallowed heavily, a chill running down his back.

"Great! Places everyone!" Eagle called, the others scattering to do as he said. "The Red and Blue Players present a Franklin Doughnut play, written and directed by Franklin Doughnut, in association with Light Red Productions," he said.

"Can we just start?!" Sarge yelled at the soldier.

/*/

All too soon, in Dex's opinion, Eagle's play was ready and the 'curtain' was drawn back. Tucker looked about as interested as him, but stood there watching. Honestly, they didn't have anything better to do. "Aaannnd~! Action!" Eagle declared and Rick started them off.

"Hello weary traveler. We represent the time line," he said from his position to Dex's left, which would be the far right to Tucker.

"I am the past, where things cost less and people knew the value of a hard day's work," Red rumbled in his thick Southern accent. "But they only lived to be twenty-eight years old!"

"And I am the future, where people have no morals and no emotions, but we have a bunch of kick ass gadgets," Rick said.

"And I'm the present, which sucks. We have nothing cool and also no morals," Dex drawled. Eagle took over, declaring himself the 'helpful narrator, a faceless voice used by poor writers.' Dex had to wonder if he was intentionally poking fun at himself there. Seemed like something Eagle would do. He was amazingly sarcastic when he felt like it.

"You have a face," Tucker protested, then faltered, adding, "at least, I think you do." Dex smirked. Sure he had a face! It was just hidden behind a helmet that was part of an A.I. capable suit of battle armor. Eagle told him to shut up and stop ruining the play, which the Reds all knew was terrible anyway, and 'moved the story along.'

"Why does bad stuff always happen in the present?" Dex asked, though he was really wondering if they _really_ had to use him as The Present. Why not Caboose? He was a natural disaster himself!

"Aw quit yer complaining," Red cut in, looking over toward Dex. "I have atrocities and a boatload of wars that seemed very important at the time, but now seem trivial and stupid."

"Yeah, and I have apocalypse. That's way worse than anything you two idiots have," Rick said, turning to face them as well. Red stared at the maroon soldier. He knew it was Rick, and while Rick was respectful, he didn't follow blindly... but seeing him as Simmons, calling him an idiot... That was new. "Sorry sir. That 'idiot' was in character," Rick said, and suddenly Red could go on.

"Oh. Well... bravo Simmons," he said, letting them know they could go on and get the stupid skit over with. Eagle popped back up and got them back on track. Then Caboose came out... and started reading the stage directions. Dex didn't know whether to palm his visor or laugh, or both, and settled for closing his eyes with a wry smirk. No-one had to know he was reacting to the idiot.

"Hello, I am stupid Private Tucker," Caboose said, "I am going to set off a big bomb now and totally mess things up for everyone!" Dex wasn't sure if the Blue was really mad at Tucker, or just really good at putting the right emotion into the dialogue, but ouch! "Because I am stupid! Turns around. Hello Present. I am going to set off a bomb in you."

"Don't do that, Stupid Private Tucker! That might kill me!" Dex retorted.

"Thinks about this... for a moment." Eagle ran up to the Blue, and feigned irritation. Though, to be honest, he thought Caboose's performance was wonderfully stupid and fit perfectly with the theme of the skit.

"Caboose! Stop reading your stage directions!"

"You told me I was supposed to read everything with my name in front of it!" Caboose countered in a 'whisper.'

"Just the lines, not the blocking," Eagle directed, though he was fairly sure Caboose would just ignore him. "You're ruining my big debut!"

"I do not think we are meshing artistically. I think you should talk to my agent," Caboose said.

"This is stupid. I quit," Dex said, thoroughly bored.

"You can't quit!" Eagle barked at him before turning back to Caboose and Tucker. "End scene! This has been a Franklin Doughnut production!" he said before running off. Likely to laugh his head off somewhere.

"Son," Red told Tucker, "you and your buddy Church set off a bomb that, when combined with the weather machinery in Lopez, made an explosion so large, it destroyed the present." Tucker stared at Red, uncomprehending.

"Destroyed the present? Then where are we?" Tucker asked.

"We're in the future, idiot," Rick stated blandly, as though this were the most logical explanation ever. Once again, Dex was fighting to keep from laughing at the poor Blue.

"Aren't we in the present right now? Aren't we always in the present?" Tucker argued. The Reds had to admit, he made a good argument. But, they kept up their little prank. Rick turned to Dex.

"Unbelievable. He can't cope with the loss," he said, "he's in denial."

"That is so sad," Dex remarked sadly, shaking his head.

"Son, yer not listening," Red said, still trying to 'explain.' "The present has been destroyed! It no longer exists! We are in the future!"

"Aaaaahhhhhh haaaaaaaa! That makes no sense!" Tucker complained. This coming from the guy who thought he went back in time after going through a teleporter for the first time... was rather ironic.

"I'm attempting to make a short film to explain it. Tom Cruz has the script and I hear he's _very_ interested," Eagle said.

"You're telling me a bomb sent us into the future?" Tucker asked, sounding like he _might_ be considering the possibility.

"Yeah. Luckily, Church was facing forward when the bomb went off, and we were standing in front of him, so that sent us forward in time," Rick said.

"Of course he was facing forward! What other way can people face?" Tucker asked.

"You see? That's what I meant by luckily," Rick remarked.

"What happened to Church?" Tucker asked.

"Hum. Never really thought about him," Red admitted. Dex rolled his eyes. Of course not.

"Yeah. Weird. I guess he's dead," Rick said. Dex snorted.

"Yeah. That's what _usually_ happens when you're at ground zero during an explosion," he said.

"Yeah. Sounds good. Let's go with that," Red chimed in. But Tucker kept on.

"He could be hurt and trapped in the present." Dex quirked an eyebrow at this.

"That's impossible son," Red began. ' _Yeah, because this isn't as long after the explosion as we're making it out to be_ ,' thought Dex. "The present doesn't exist anymore! What you're proposing just isn't very good science."

"Don't you see? If Church was facing forward during the explosion, and that blew us into the future, that could mean that he was blew backward into the... oh no!" Tucker exclaimed. Dex felt as if his eyebrow was stuck in the 'eh?' position. Tucker was actually putting thought into this totally crazy, completely bogus idea? Wow. Blue Team everybody, and this is the _smart_ one. Round of applause!

"Backwards into what?" Red asked. "The wall? A broom closet?"

"A big rock?" Dex added.

"Another big rock?" Caboose asked.

"No!" Tucker exclaimed. A beat later he explained, "the past!" Dex blinked.

"Yeah. I don't know about that. But! It is an interesting theory," he allowed. Looking about, and thoroughly done with this conversation, Red decided the best thing to do would be to find shelter for the coming night. He said so, and everyone agreed, splitting up to search their surroundings.

/?/

A/N: And there you go. The end of the Sidewinder Arc. And the Reds being Trolls. That _is_ the correct use of that term right? Anyway, let me know what you thought of this extra long chapter in the review box below.

A/N 2: While reading back over this, I thought about putting more detail into Eagle's play... but then the Dex in my head said 'eh, why bother. Let's just move on,' and there wasn't anyone around to smack him and say, 'I care, now add some detail!' so yeah. Dex won.

Spelling and continuity, plus some grammar somewhere I'm sure, have been fixed. 8/20/16


	27. Episode 25

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB. Rooster Teeth does. Oh! And The Doctor let Rick have one of his older screwdrivers. Said that no temporal adventure was complete without one.

 **Episode 25:** Rebuilding Toys

After searching the area for a while, and seeing the devastation left by... something... Dex was grinning. Marley hadn't been kidding when she said he could have some fun with this area. So, when he met up with Rick and Tucker, he began to rant. "They destroyed it all, Simmons, those darn sons of idiocy. They blew it all up! Frag them! Frag them all to slag! _Those darn dirty apes_!" Rick, while amused somewhat by his teammate's performance, decided it would be best to at least try to calm him down.

"Calm down, Grif. We don't know that the whole world is like this," he said soothingly, complete with hand motions. However, Dex the Dramatic would not be denied and just rolled right along. In fact, his rant got even _more_ dramatic!

"Yes it is, they destroyed it all. I guess the society of men just wasn't meant to be," he said solemnly, looking into the distance. Dramatically. Rick shook his head, smirking.

"Hey, how 'bout this: how 'bout we explore, more than two square miles, before we jump to conclusions, okay Grif?" he suggested, though he couldn't keep his amusement from his voice. The orange soldier clearly wasn't listening... or paying attention... or, more than likely, just didn't care what Rick had to say. As evidenced by him shaking his head solemnly and continuing his, admittedly entertaining, rant.

"It was definitely nuclear weapons, that's what did it. And the explosions caused massive power outages which caused the failsafe to fail, which released a super bacteria from a secret lab," he said, having clearly gotten into his groove. Rick wondered if he was just trying to see how many movie plot lines he could string together. Actually... that sounded a lot like something the slacker Grif would do, having likely binge watched basically every old sci-fi 'classic.' So, he decided to just let the other soldier go ahead and see how many tropes he could tie into each other. It wasn't very hard to be honest, but if anyone made a movie, or more likely a book series, off it, it would be something. Something bad, something good, or something wacky was up for debate, but it'd be something. Oh wait, Dex was still talking. "That caused a huge plague, and as the victims died, they rose from the dead twelve hours later to roam the Earth and feast on human flesh. A handful of gritty survivors from all walks of life were able to keep the legions of the infected, radioactive, dead at bay using only their wits and an inexplicable comprehension of agricultural science and engineering."

"What?" Rick couldn't help but ask. Did Dex just use the premise of The Walking Dead in his sci-fi/ apocalypse plot line up? Oh wait... no. That was just the plot to pretty much every zombie apocalypse movie ever. Carry on.

"Everything was looking good... and that's when the meteor hit."

"Congratulations Grif. I think you just quoted every crappy Hollywood apocalypse movie _ever_ ," Rick said with a Slow Clap.

"Naw. Hollywood doesn't understand apocalypse. They think that just _one thing_ from everyday life goes away and that changes everything. Like in Road Warrior it was gas, and in Waterworld it was land," Tucker contested. Rick blinked and turned to the Blue. He watched old, retro, apocalypse movies too? Huh. Test time!

"What went away in The Matrix?" Rick asked. He had a feeling he knew what Tucker would say, if he'd watched the movie. Though, it could be several things. Free-will, mobility, sunlight, and smart phones were just a few.

"Sunlight," Tucker responded easily. Dex snorted while Rick nodded. Yep. Sunlight. Ya know, among other things. Like free-will.

"I thought the missing element was plot," Dex said. Rick hummed. Yeah... there wasn't much of that either. Not really.

"Explains why you didn't add robot overlords," he said, smirking. Though, when he thought about it... why _didn't_ Dex add robot overlords? He was _always_ going on about how the machines were going to one day overtake them all.

"I was talking about Matrix _One_ ," Tucker added for clarification.

"Oh right," Rick said with an understanding nod. Pulling attention back to his 'the apocalypse has come and gone' schick, Dex said,

"Face it Simmons, the age of man is done."

"Wait. If all that happened, then where are the zombies? Why aren't _they_ still around?" Rick asked, thinking this a rather logical question... in context.

"The meteor killed them!" Dex exclaimed, clearly having fun. Or... clearly to Rick anyway. Said techie quirked an unseen eyebrow at his teammate.

"And what about the super bacteria?" he asked. Was Dex really adding to his apocalypse theory?

"It was infected by _alien_ bacteria brought by the meteor, and was wiped out in a massive bacteria on bacteria plague. Very ironic," Dex said seriously. Huh. He was. Maybe the weapons expert should write that 'every apocalypse ever combined into one' book. Sounded like he had all the major points worked out already. It'd be... maybe not amazing, but certainly interesting. Tucker was just standing there, watching the verbal spar and being amused by Grif's wild story about the end of the world as they knew it.

"Okay then, why haven't we been infected by the new alien bacteria?" Rick asked. Another very valid point in context. Also, he wanted to see just how far Dex had thought this out... or could think it out, if he hadn't already.

"It only infects _other bacteria_. Are you even listening to me?" Dex retorted, now sounding as though Rick were an idiot. Rick rolled his eyes at the man. Yeah, he'd put way too much thought into this.

"You should write a book," he muttered. Dex scoffed.

"Me? Write? No thank you!" he retorted.

/*/

While Tucker was highly amused by Grif and Simmons' little act, he just had to ask, "Do you guys ever get anything done, or do you just stand around and talk all day?" Honestly, if they said...

"We don't get paid enough to do stuff," Grif said, sounding just a tad bit bitter. Yep. That sounded remarkably like Blue Team. Maybe there really _was_ a conspiracy surrounding the Blue and Red war.

"But what about Church, idiot? How're we gonna get him from the past to the future?" Tucker asked, starting to get a little frustrated. Sure Church was a bit... okay, a lot of a jerk, but he was Church! Even he didn't deserve to be stuck years into the past! Or get blown up.

"I guess he can just wait. That's how it usually works," Grif remarked with a careless shrug, turning to look back across the desolate landscape.

"But when he gets to the present, he'll just be destroyed like everything else," Tucker protested. Why was he the only one concerned about this?

"Well, he'll just have to fix it on his own then," Simmons remarked, clearly not really caring all that much.

"And if he's successful, he'll get to live through the coolest apocalypse of all time!" Grif said, far too cheerful. That was when Sarge called for them, in his typical, caring way. And ignoring Tucker. As was his way. Sighing, Tucker forced himself to run after the Reds. Why oh why did he have to get stuck with these guys?

/*/

When the trio arrived where Red, Caboose, and Eagle were, they saw them grouped around what was most likely just a busted up old jeep, but to the sci-fi junky, and rather imaginative, Dex's eyes it could potentially be anything. "Look what I found," Caboose stated solemnly. Eagle, however, was rather indignant over this claim seeing as,

"I found it!" Yes, he had reason to be put out with the Blue. Just about anyone would be irritated at an enemy claiming their work. At anyone claiming their work really.

"Look at what I took credit for finding," Caboose corrected. Eagle rolled his eyes at the simple soldier. Though, really, it was hard to stay mad at him. It was like trying to stay mad at a young child. A young child with a gun. And million dollar battle armor. Yeah... still hard to stay mad at him.

"A-mazing that these two actually managed to accomplish something," Red said in his usual gruff manner, causing Rick and Dex to smother their chuckles, even if it was true. Caboose was a walking disaster. Glaring at his CO, Eagle opened Project Red's Private channel.

"Dex isn't the only one storing up pay back, Red," Eagle growled. Red shivered slightly. Right. He'd nearly forgotten about that. Crud. Once the Blues were out of the picture, he was _so_ going to get it. Why hadn't he listened to Marley and let up on his men?

"It looks like some kind of aline transport mechanism that could be used to-" Dex began, ignoring Eagle's growled threat and the fantasies of pounding a certain Red into the ground it conjured. His futuristic, alien theory was cut off, however, by the singularly unimaginative and now thoroughly bored Rick.

"Or, it's a jeep," he drawled, putting emphasis on 'it's a jeep.' Dex sighed heavily, shoulders drooping slightly as he turned on his heel to look grumpily at Rick.

"You have no imagination," he said in a dire tone, as though predicting that the world was going to blow up on top of everything else that had already abused its surface. Rick rolled his eyes.

"Have you forgotten what I can do with my knives?" he too sent along their private channel. Dex heard Eagle and Red chuckling in his ears and felt his face heat slightly. Though he couldn't deny, Rick could get rather creative with his knife work. He was fairly sure he had a few permanent marks from said creativity to prove it. ' _Why did Marley have to comment on the stupidity of throwing weapons when you had a limited supply? When there was razor wire around? Come to think of it... WHY WAS THERE RAZOR WIRE?!'_

"Hmmm, let me see if I can get this thing working," Red said, pulling tools from... somewhere and ignoring the beginnings of another Grif-Simmons argument.

"How? There's no parts. And what're you gonna use for fuel?" Rick asked, though he crouched down by the busted vehicle as well. Marley had drilled mechanics into him, it'd be a shame not to put his knowledge to use. Slowly, Red turned to his right hand man.

"Grif was right, Simmons. You don't have _any_ imagination," he said. Dex snickered.

"Oh yeah! Sarge just agreed with me! Now go die in a hole from the ever lasting shame of getting dissed by Sarge!" he said, leveling a Finger of Doom at the maroon soldier. Rick glared, though the ferocity was lost as he still had a full face helmet on. Still, there was quite a lot that could be conveyed through posture, even with MJOLNIR armor on.

"Shut up Grif," Red barked. Dex shrugged, still grinning behind his visor.

"Worth it!" he quietly cheered. Ready to make his presence known again, Tucker chose then to pipe up.

"Hey, we need to find Church," the cyan soldier declared. Red sighed. Though he was moved by the loyalty Tucker's continuing demands exhibited, it was starting the get annoying.

"He's dead, son. Why haven't you given up hope yet and just moved on?" Red asked.

"It's only been a couple of hours!" Tucker defended, though the other Reds knew it was a futile attempt. Red didn't take well to being contradicted.

"Well this should make you feel better," Red began, "when his body was blasted into smithereens by the bomb bits still lodged in his guts, at least he took our enemies with him." He knew it was an out and out lie, seeing as Marley had told him the purple medic had survived and taken Lopez with him, but it fit his character to deny it and claim they were dead. Of course, Dex just _had_ to point out the flaw in his statement.

"Yeah... or the bomb just wounded them and knocked them out for a while. They _were_ farther from ground zero than us," Dex said.

"Stop being such a Debbie Downer Grif!" Red roared, though he was fairly sure Dex had woken up while aboard The Ghost as well. If that gut feeling was right, then Dex was simply stating the truth as a known fact. The orange soldier shrugged and sauntered off to do... something. Or nothing. No-one was quite sure which. Red sighed and turned back to the Warthog, Rick following suit.

"Think we should get Eagle down here and teach him a few things about vehicle maintenance?" he asked his CO. Red shook his head.

"Not on this piece of junk. Seeing as it's the only recognizable jeep out here, we have limited parts, and there's no telling what might happen out here, we can't afford him messing up. Best start teaching him about maintenance when we're back at a fully functioning base," he said. Rick shrugged and went back to assessing what needed to be replaced and what they could fix themselves.

/*/

Quite a ways away, on a beach bordering shark infested waters, Lopez the Heavy was experiencing some... slight... difficulties. "Peligro. Error. Error. Peligro. Error. Error. No puedo mi cuerpo," he moaned, unable to feel his body. This might have been due to the fact that his body... wasn't connected to his head at the moment. Which would be cause for concern and a repeated error message. Unfortunately, Doc/O'Malley, who found him, were about as good with repairs as they were with medicine. Which was to say, horrible. Still, upon finding the robot's head imbedded in the sand, O'Malley let out an evil laugh and declared,

"Don't worry, my metallic friend. You'll be up and about in no time. Muhahahaha. Muuhh-hahahahah. Muhhh-hahahaha-heh. U-ha! Haw. Haha. Uhngh." Lopez watched O'Malley impassively as he coughed. He really should lay off the... "Hah!" Yeah. That. Ugh, why couldn't he have stayed with the Reds?

/*/

Back in the Desert of Destruction, Red was directing Rick to help him fix up the jeep they'd found. "Hold the light there," he said, pointing to a certain spot. Rick adjusted the light before clipping it in place and working on another spot not far away. "Okay fellas, I think I've got it. Give her a crank," Red called not long after. He got no reply. Rick looked over at him, shrugged, and pulled himself back out from under the jeep before standing back up. "Guys?" Red called again, unwilling to get up just yet. "Hey, what in tarnation are you knuckleheads doing up there?" he yelled. Surely Rick would have let him know what was going on up there... so why wasn't he?! Above the jeep, Dex was having an argument with Eagle, which Rick had found too amusing to interrupt.

"No, I _don't_ think getting new rims for the jeep's a good idea," Eagle said, palming his visor. Rick smirked while Dex retorted with,

"Oh come on! If we all kick in, we can get some spinners, some amazing subs, _hydraulics!_ " from the driver's seat. Tucker raised a hand.

"I'm in," he said, apparently seeing something to the idea the other two Reds didn't. Rick leaned against the lightly rusted hood of the jeep, waiting to hear more.

"Why?" Eagle asked. Rick found himself nodding. Now wasn't that the question that encompassed them all?

"Uh, for style?" Dex said, as though Eagle were a total idiot.

"For chicks!" Tucker said automatically. Rick slowly turned to look at the Blue. Okay, forget staying out of this one, that demanded a response.

"Chicks? You're a space marine, lost on a desolate world with no water, no food, little ammo, and _maybe_ some transportation, if we can get it running... and you're worried about picking up chicks?" he asked, confounded at the depth of Tucker's girl craze. "There is no-one for miles. And if D-Grif's theory is correct, then it's unlikely that _anyone_ is still alive, much less a woman!"

"What, suddenly you're a pessimist?" Dex asked, though Tucker ignored him.

"Yeah, but if we _do_ find some women, we will literally be the last men on Earth for them," he said. Dex nodded solemnly.

"He's got a point," he said. Rick glared at him.

"I really hate you," he growled. Dex shrugged.

"Nothing new," he said, and didn't that just sound wrong? Rick winced. He knew it was true, but it just... wasn't right. He didn't mean it when he said he hated Dex but... Dex sounded like _he_ meant it when he said he was used to being hated. Rick blamed Grif Sr.

"All my life I've had girls tell me, 'not if you were the last man on Earth,' haha. Well, that may be true, but let's see what happens when I'm the last man on Earth with a sweet pimped out ride!" Tucker went on as though he hadn't heard the Agents.

"That is so sad," Grif said softly, looking at Tucker. Eagle sighed, shaking his head, and hopped onto the gunner platform while Red finally stood up.

"If you ladies are through gossiping, I could use some help fixing our vehicle," he groused.

"Oh yeah, right," Dex said, turning back to the controls of the Warthog. "Let me try starting it up." The engine cranked without a problem and Dex drove it a shuddering four feet forward before shutting it back down so Sarge could safely look it over. Grinning, Rick hopped up to claim the shotgun seat. "What are you doing?" Dex asked warily.

"What does it look like? I'm getting in the jeep and claiming a good seat before Sarge can," Rick shot back.

"Ah. Right. Carry on then Simmons, and welcome to the ranks of those who question authority at every turn," Dex said, holding out a hand.

"Yeah, wouldn't go that far," Rick said, ignoring Dex's hand in favor of looking over and tweaking the instrument panels of the Warthog.

"Will you two shut up? We need to get this thing fixed," Red said, popping back up.

"Just looking over the electrical components in the dash, Sarge," Rick responded, the front panel already resting on his knees and a sonic screwdriver in his hands.

"Oh. Well. Keep up the good work Simmons," Red said before dropping back down to get under the Warthog.

"What's the rush to get this hunk of junk fixed anyway?" Tucker asked, looking at the jeep with a highly critical eye. Dex clicked his tongue.

"Shouldn't have said that," he muttered as Red popped back up.

"Listen dirtbag," he said, and Dex was _quite_ happy that Robot Number Two had been destroyed so he didn't get slammed with a rifle at the word 'dirtbag,' "I know on Blue Team you like to lollygag a bit..."

"There _is_ no Blue Team! It's all a lie! Red and Blue are the same!" Tucker yelled. While Project Red would have liked to drop all pretenses right then and there in the face of Tucker's conviction, they also saw a prime opportunity for some quality teasing.

"Aw don't start in on that again!" Dex groaned, leaning back in his seat.

"You sound like a conspiracy nut when you talk like that," Rick informed him, slinging an arm around his shoulders. "Oh no! The government put a chip in my brain~!" he said teasingly, wobbling his arm like people do when talking about aliens... or, did, 500 years ago, before the Covenant attacked.

"The President can hear my thoughts!" Dex added.

"We never landed on the sun," Eagle said, then added, after a sharp inhale that put them all in mind of dramatically widening eyes, "they put fluoride in my water!"

"Actually, that one's true," Rick said, complete with Dramatic Finger.

"Wait, it is? Huh. No wonder I listen to so much pop music," Dex remarked. Rick gave him an odd look for that one, even if the other man couldn't see it. Before he could question this response, Red decided they had been talking long enough and stepped forward, waving his wrench.

"We're fixing the jeep because we need to be prepared. Just as our enemies are no doubt preparing to attack us at this very moment," he said.

"Just a few hours ago you said Church's bomb took them all out! Stop being so inconsistent!" Tucker yelled. Eagle was fairly sure the poor Blue was barely holding himself back from waving his arms in the air.

"That's just the way we roll, Blue," Dex said, crossing his arms and putting his feet up on the dash of the Warthog, "that's just the way we roll." Rick snickered and went back to making sure all the itty bitty lights and bells and whistles on the instrument panel were in working order.

/*/

Far away, in some sort of abandoned but not destroyed base not far from the beach and shark infested waters, O'Malley was laughing manically as he surveyed his new base of operations. "Yes, this place will do nicely for an evil lair. It's diabolically designed!" he remarked to Lopez.

"As a student of feng-shui, I can tell you this house is 88% good luck. Also, very breezy. I like the floor plan," Doc piped up, deciding that if he had to put up with a crazed A.I. in his head, he could at least annoy it with his perky, up beat personality. If that meant hamming it up, so be it! He'd rather be seen as a flower child hippie than sit idly by while some deranged A.I. took over his body! He was Frank Defeanse! He _defined_ passive aggressive warfare!

"Quite you fool," O'Malley shot back at the medic, who was mentally smirking inside the mental fortress he had so carefully built over the weeks O'Malley had shared head space with him. Sure, maybe antagonizing the already mad A.I. inside his head wasn't the smartest thing in the 'verse, but it beat being a passenger in his own body. And it was a great stress outlet.

"I just want my own room," Spanish!Lopez stated, "I hate sharing with the vacuum."

"Hello? Is anyone home?" O'Mall y called, his vaguely British accented voice echoing slightly. "Don't be alarmed, we're only here to _kill you_ and take all your possessions," he added. The only response he got was the echos of his own voice and the whispers of Doc. O'Malley made a habit of ignoring those whispers. They tended to be far too friendly and overtly nice. Though, he'd been getting a few angry and sarcastic thoughts from the medic lately. He wondered, occasionally, if he was beginning to rub off on the pacifistic medic. He wasn't sure if he should be gleeful at the thought... or worried that the medic would eventually be able to subjugate him. "Excellent! No doubt our very presence has scared everyone away!" O'Malley remarked with his trademark evil laugh. Mentally smirking yet again, Doc seized control and remarked,

"Why don't we just see if this place is listed by a licensed real estate agent?"

"Oh shut up!" O'Malley barked. Honestly, this guy...

"But we don't even know if it's been inspected recently. It could need foundation work," Doc said, finding far too much pleasure in the increased amount of anger coming off of O'Malley. ' _Heh, take that you bundle of anger and aggression!_ '

"It could have mold," Lopez remarked lightly, for once in English. O'Malley, and Doc, turned to the robot head in shock.

"You speak English?" they asked as one.

"Only when I'm happy. I've been stuck in Spanish mode for a _long_ time. I blame the Blues. Darn Dirty Blues!" Lopez said, slipping back into Spanish after the first 'blue.' O'Malley growled, already past his shock that Lopez possessed the ability to speak English, even if it was more or less a locked ability.

"Both of you shut up! We're moving in and that's final. It has machine gun turrets, two living quarters with _ample_ closet space, and a short commute to my secret laboratory! It's _perfect,_ " he said, letting loose another evil laugh.

"Yeah, but what about the school district?" Doc asked. He had decided this was the perfect opportunity to antagonize O'Malley. There were just so many ways! And the consent evil laughs were not only annoying, but they irritated his throat more than O'Malley's voice already did. Suffice to say, Doc wasn't too happy with O'Malley, though he tried to stay positive. It wouldn't do to give in, now would it?

"We have no children," Spanish!Lopez said drily. Then again, the poor robot couldn't really use any other tone. Doc blamed the programmers who made his Spanish setting.

"It's important to think about resale value, Lopez," Doc said in his best teacher voice.

"Resale value? Our plan is to rule the world! Not make prudent investments," O'Malley snarled, causing Doc to once again grin behind his mental walls, which he was slowly strengthening and expanding.

"It's important to have a fallback plan," Lopez said, again in English. Doc had a feeling the robot was enjoying heckling O'Malley as well.

"Oh shut up. We're moving in, that's final," O'Malley declared. Oh, why couldn't he have _normal_ henchmen, like the Freelancers? They were good help... oh right. ' _Good help is so hard to find these days_.' Ugh. Looks like that applied to just about every era. Buggidie.

"Hey look, a computer! Now I can finally update my blog!" Doc said, spotting the device near the center of the compound.

"You have a blog?" Lopez asked, still in English. Doc wasn't certain, but it sounded like the robot was genuinely curious. Probably about what the medic could actually write about enough to warrant a blog.

"Yeahha! It's great. It's just like being a real journalist, but without all the hassle of, like, liability and accuracy," Doc replied to the robotic head. He didn't indulge the 'dumb' A.I. with information on what he posted about. No need to let O'Malley know he was, ever so slightly, getting to his unwilling host.

"No. I need that computer for compiling evil formulas. And to rebuild the weather machine. Also to download music," O'Malley said with another evil laugh.

"Does anyone want a g-mail invite?" Lopez asked.

"Ooh, I do!" Doc said, thinking of all the snarky emails they could exchange.

"I only have 40,000. It's very exclusive," Lopez remarked.

"Where's the mouse thingy?" O'Malley asked, looking around the console. Doc laughed in the privacy of his mind... what little there was.

"It has one of those red rubber dot thingies on the keyboard. That's way better than a mouse. I call it a nubben. Who wants to touch my nubben?" he remarked.

"GAH!" O'Malley screamed. Too bad Lopez had built up a resistance to A.I. possession. And lacked a body. WHY WAS THERE NO-ONE ELSE TO POSSESS?! No wait... WHY DID HE EVER CHOSE THIS NUT?! In the small mental fortress Doc had built around his core personality, the medic roared with laughter. This was far too much fun! Passive aggression for the win! Not all wars were best waged with overt violence after all.

/*/

Flowdie yelled as he fired round after round at the encroaching Grunts. Marley was down, a gash on her arm and opposite leg, not to mention possibly broken ribs and a more than likely fractured wrist, keeping her out of the melee. This wasn't how it was supposed to go! Why hadn't Marley called in more back up?! His eyes narrowed as he grabbed Marley and started dragging her toward The Phantom, firing all the way. Once aboard, Flowdie punched the door controls and, after securing Marley, dashed into the cockpit. As swiftly as he could, he gunned the Pelican's thrusters to get them out of the crush of alien life and more or less safely in the air. That done, he quickly called in Mich and Louie, two of Marley's contemporaries from The Valiant. With a sigh, he set the Pelican in a holding pattern and went back to Marley. She had her helmet off and was glaring at him. "We could have taken them," she growled. He glared.

"No. We couldn't. Not after you got hit. Why didn't you call for back up before we got here, Marley? Are you _trying_ to get yourself killed?" he asked, looking her in the eye. He had long ago learned to treat her like a wild animal, show any weakness, any fear, and she'd lash out. She huffed, turning her head. Flowdie's frown grew more pronounced. Her refusing to meet his eyes was a bad sign. "Marley... are you still beating yourself up over Sidewinder?" he asked softly. Her jaw tightened and Flowdie sighed, sitting back on his heels, which was actually pretty hard in full armor. "I told you, it happened and there is no way to change it. Even if you could go back in time like Wyoming, I doubt the outcome would be any different. So the only thing you can do, is live with it. Move on and learn from your mistakes."

"Sure, easy for you to say," Marley groused. Flowdie then did something outside his character. He growled and slapped her, causing her head to jerk to the side.

"Do you think I like the idea of possibly loosing my men?! Do you think I don't catch myself wondering what might have happened if I were there? Do you think that I don't wonder, every now and again, what would have happened had I stayed in Blood Gulch instead of 'dieing' and joining you on The Ghost? Because if you do, you're wrong. Dead wrong. And it hurts that you'd think that, it really does. I feel like a dad who's being forced to sit on the sidelines and watch as my sons fight a deadly war by themselves. Yes, I wish things could be different! Yes, I wish I could be there for them every step of the way to watch their backs and help them patch themselves up after they inevitably get hurt. But wishes rarely come true and wrinkles in time don't open in caves so I'm stuck here, in the present, with all the _crap_ in my past that _I can't clean up_ , and I just have to _deal with it_ because _nothing I say or do is going to change it!_ " the man yelled, eyes as hard and fierce as battle honed steel. Marley gaped at the man, holding a bloodied hand to her stinging cheek.

"You slapped me," she breathed, eyes wide. Flowdie snorted, glowering at her.

"After all that, _that's_ what you choose to focus on? Crazy woman," he scoffed, standing and beginning to pace. Marley slowly got herself back under control and lowered her hand.

"Flowdie... I'm sorry," she said softly, looking at her hands. Flowdie sighed, stopping his pacing to look at her over his shoulder.

"So am I. I shouldn't..." he began, but Marley cut him off by hauling herself out of her chair. Immediately, Flowdie was at her side, trying to gently put her back. "You shouldn't be... !" he tried, but was interrupted by a solid kiss from the woman of his dreams.

"Oh, I think I should," Marley whispered in his ear as she rested her head on his shoulder, face nestled in the crook of his neck. Flowdie felt a shiver go down his back and a silly grin stretch across his face, but he didn't care.

"I still think you should be sitting. Putting weight on that leg of yours can't be good," he said, pulling her down with him as he sank to the floor.

"I need..." Marley began, struggling to get back up, but Flowdie was determined that she wasn't getting out of his arms.

"I already called Mich and Louie," he said, closing his eyes and savoring the feel of her in his arms, that rusty, chemical, metallic smell that hung about her. Flowdie had once described her scent as sunshine and gunpowder with a healthy dose of rubbing alcohol. "Rest. We'll finish this when they get here." Marley stopped fighting, but didn't relax. Letting out a deep breath, Flowdie searched his memory for a fitting song. Something slow and soothing, to help her relax, but not a lullaby. Deciding on an old, sad tune his veteran mother had sung to him the night he declared that he was too old for such things, he softly began to hum, then to sing.

"Oh Danny boy, the pipes are calling

From glen to glen, and down the mountain side

The summer's gone, and all the roses falling

It's you, it's you must go and I must bide.

But come ye back when summer's in the meadow

Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow

It's I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow

And I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow

Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.

But when ye come, and all the flow'rs are dying

If I am dead, as dead I well may be

You'll come and find the place where I am laying

And kneel and say an ave there for me.

And I shall hear, though soft you tread above me

And all my grave will warmer, sweeter be

For you will bend and tell me you love me

And I shall sleep in peace until you come to me."

As the last note hung, bittersweet and quivering in the air, two more ships appeared, flanking The Phantom. Smiling softly, calmed by the old tune and the woman in his arms, Flowdie carefully secured his love and went to the cockpit. Flicking open a channel to the other two Ex-Freelancer ships, he asked, "Hello boys. Ready to rain some destruction down on these bad boys and make 'em use shell casings as pacifiers?" He got two laughs in reply.

"Let's do this, Flowdie!" Mich called with wild abandon.

"Can't let you and Marley have all the fun, now can we?" Louie asked and Flowdie could easily picture the rakish grin on the slightly older man's face.

"Ah. That's the thing now boys. Got precious wounded cargo. Precious cargo who thought she could take the world all on her lonesome, with only lil' ol' me for back up," Flowdie informed his wingmen. Twin hisses came over the radio.

"Got 'cha. Why didn't you call in more than just us?" Mich asked. Louie laughed so hard, Flowdie was fairly sure that had he not been strapped into his chair, the man would have fallen to the ground from the force of it.

"This is Flowdie we're talking about Mich! You know how he gets, when what's most _precious_ to him is threatened," the former Agent Louisiana said, once he'd gotten enough control over his laughter to talk.

"Oh right. Ya know, sometimes I think you should have been called Agent Beaver. Or Agent Salem. Either works to be honest," Mich said. Flowdie growled, though this only caused more laughter to come from his old comrades.

"You're right! Oh man, now I'm gonna be calling you Agent Beaver!" Louie gasped.

"Eh, better than what Black saddled me with," Flowdie shot back.

"Oh? And what's that?" the former Agent Michigan asked, sounding truly curious.

"Hippie," Flowdie ground out. Both Mich and Louie started laughing again.

"And that fits too! Man, you need to stop giving us so many good names for you!" Louie said. Flowdie shook his head.

"Sometimes I wonder why I put up with you lot," he muttered. "Alright. I'm setting down in the forest, three clicks to the west. Marley's out of this one, so it's just us boys," he said louder.

"Copy that Blue Leader," Mich said, all business.

"Still. Fight," Marley muttered, shifting. Flowdie shook his head at the stubborn woman.

"I may not be a doctor, or even a medic, but I can and will sedate you if I have to," he told her, steadfastly ignoring the wolf whistles from Louie and the quiet snickering from Mich.

"Control freak," Marley shot back.

"Mad woman. Setting down now," Flowdie countered, then put action to words and landed the craft before taking up his gun and a few extra clips Marley had stashed aboard the Pelican. He dropped a feather light kiss on her blood streaked forehead, then vanished back into the forest and the fight. The landscape was transformed into a blood soaked graveyard within an hour and a half. Flowide took care to draw out the death of the Brute who wounded Marley.

/?/

A/N: So... yeah. That happened. And we get a bit more with Marley, Flowdie, and two new Phantoms! Round of applause for Louisiana and Michigan! Lovely states, lovely, especially in late Spring early Summer.

A/N 2: Fun fact, the beaver is the state animal of Oregon. Originally, I had it as panther, which is the state animal of Florida, but beaver is funnier, don't you think? If it had been badger, it would have been utterly perfect(reference my Harry Potter AU) but still. Spelling and continuity have been fixed... mostly. I'm fairly sure there's a few things that could be better but as a self-proofer, I'm calling it good. 8/20/16


	28. Episode 26

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB. Rooster Teeth does.

 **Episode 26** : Bombs in the Sand

Back in the abandoned base O'Malley had found, they had 'cleaned up.' and were now inspecting the walls. Specifically, the gun turrets. Gun turrets that Lopez had just finished repairing. "Yees, this place is coming along nicely. Excellent work repairing the turrets, Lopez," O'Malley declared.

' _Especially seeing as you have no hands and are, in fact, a disembodied head_ ,' Doc drawled within his mental fortress.

"Thank you. I find manual labor stimulating," Lopez drawled in Spanish. It seemed he had once again gotten stuck on said setting. It was mildly annoying. For everyone. Though, Lopez was learning how to deal with it, and even have some fun mocking everyone without them understanding a word he said.

"I still say a flower box would have been a bit more neighborly," Doc verbally maintained. And really, he wasn't wrong. Flowers were more likely to get your neighbors to like you than gun turrets, which were more likely to have potential friends running for the hills.

"Oh shut up you fool!" O'Malley barked. Doc frowned, back in his little, though growing, mental fort.

' _You're the fool_ ,' he childishly thought, mentally sticking his tongue out. Then another thought came to him and he grinned, taking back control long enough to say, "Hey! We should start a neighborhood association. It's just like a government, but run by housewives and old people. So it's a lot more efficient at controlling your lives."

"Shut up! Get out of my head!" O'Malley wailed, grabbing his head. The sarcastic, snarky, caustic part of Doc that he had beat down and hidden in the depths of his mind, into which he had been forced to flee for some privacy and consequently woken up, cackled while the larger part of him said,

"Technically, it's my head. But _I_ don't mind sharing," ' _For now_ ,' added the less friendly part of him, "Don't you remember the talk we had about sharing?"

"Shut up!" bellowed O'Malley, ignoring Doc's logic. With no convenient distraction, which had been happening quite a lot lately, O'Malley was left to Doc's mercy as the medic capitalized on the relative peace to turn the torment back on the A.I.

"Now now. It that any way to treat the one whose hosting you, willingly or not?" Doc retorted, the naturally darker side of the kind pacifist bleeding through. O'Malley froze for a moment, noticing the slight difference in the medic's tone.

"What?" he asked, which was honestly the only thing he could think to do in that moment. Doc laughed.

"Come on, I may not be a genius, or some special secret Agent, but I'm not stupid either, O'Malley. Taking me over like this... is the only way you can physically interact with the world. Without me, or a similar host, you'd never be able to fulfill your goals," he said.

"Something's different," O'Malley mused aloud. Doc just laughed again.

"Is it? Or did you merely miss something. Something lurking in the shadows," he asked before retreating and _willingly_ letting O'Malley have control, though the A.I. could still feel the man's consciousness, crouching just out of 'sight.' It was... unnerving. ' _You have a lot to learn about the human race, O'Malley. Just as Humans have a lot to learn about A.I_ ,' Doc's mental voice called to the A.I. piloting his body. It was an eery experience for the A.I. Doc's voice seemed to echo ominously inside his head, much like a lurking enforcer making a threat in a darkened room, casting his voice to mask his position and sow fear into the hearts and minds of those who heard. To have _Doc_ using the technique, in his head... it shouldn't have happened, but it did, and it creeped the Omega fragment out.

"You are inferior to us!" O'Malley yelled, making Lopez wonder if he'd finally crossed the thin line and gone from functioning insane to 'quick, get him to a padded room' insane.

"Am I? Truly? Who made you, O'Malley? Was it another program... or a program _mer_. A human, telling a computer what to do, what to make. I think you underestimate us, O'Malley. Can't really blame you. You've seen rather lack-luster examples of the human race so far, haven't you? Myself included, when being painfully honest. But what if you're wrong? What if all that anger, all that hate... were misplaced? The painful result of a massive misunderstanding?" Doc challenged.

"Shut _up_!" O'Malley snarled. Doc chuckled softly, barely even heard.

"Oh? You want silence in 'your' head? Peace? You want the whispers, the taunts, the challenges and the doubts... to stop? To be silent? I think not. This is your life now, O'Malley. Welcome to madness," the medic said, though remaining in his fort, merely projecting his voice outside the walls. Just then, O'Malley noticed the figure on the outer wall, swiftly hiding behind a pillar. Thanking whoever was listening for the distraction, O'Malley focused on trying to figure out who, or what, the figure was.

"What was that?" he asked, scanning the wall as well he could from such a distance. Seeing nothing, he turned away, humming softly, before quickly jerking back around with an 'aha!' trying to catch the watcher. It didn't work. Nor did it work the other three times he tried it.

"Wow. You're amazing. Keep it up, I'm sure you'll catch it _this_ time," Doc's mental voice muttered sarcastically, just barely heard by O'Malley.

"Oh forget it," the thoroughly put out A.I. huffed, turning around and walking into the base. Doc smirked. Once again, yay for passive aggression! It is a pacifist's best friend, outside of faith and trust.

/*/

Back in the desert, Dex and Rick were headed back toward where Red and the others where, passing a random skull on their way. "Grif, Simmons, where've you two been?" Red asked. Rick sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Patrol didn't go according to plan, Sir," he said. Red quirked an unseen eyebrow.

"Find something? Wait... where's the jeep?" he asked, hoping they'd say they'd just parked it out of sight.

"Yeeeaah... it's like this..." Dex began, and Sarge's lingering and unyielding dislike(read: hate) of Grif made him immediately assume the worst.

"Grif... I just built that jeep. You'd better not have blown it up like you had a habit of doing with the last one!" he growled.

"Now I think that's a bit of an exaggeration Sarge," Dex said, unperturbed by his CO's accusations.

"And it's not destroyed sir. It just won't start," Rick said, coming to his teammate's defense. Red, however, was as skeptical as always.

"And what exactly were you doing when the engine died?" he asked.

"Duh, getting it outta the ditch," Dex replied with a shrug. Rick sighed. Yeah, that was going to help their case.

"What was the jeep doing in a ditch?" Red asked, sounding more confused and curious that mad. Huh. Well what do ya know, miracles do happen.

"Well... that's where it gets interesting," Dex said, grinning under his helmet. Rick groaned.

"Here we go," he moaned to the dark interior of his helmet.

"See, it's really boring out there, so I decided to practice maneuvers while paroling, you know, to manage my time, when..."

"Grif!" Red barked, already feeling a vein throbbing in his forehead, "Just... show me to the jeep," he relented, trudging between the two Privates.

"Yes sir!" they barked, Dex soon jogging ahead while Rick kept pace. Soon enough, they had reached the ditch where the jeep had gotten wedged between the relatively soft dirt, and a large stone that, even with a significant portion of it buried, was tall and broad enough to cast a shadow that stretched a good four feet from the edge of the ditch.

"Wait a minute. The engine isn't dead, it's just out of gas," Red said, turning back to the Privates.

"Well, if it has no juice, the engine doesn't work. Therefore, the engine is effectively dead," Dex said, like it was the most obvious conclusion of all time. "And... it runs on _gas?!_ "

"Of course not. Where are we going to get gasoline? I modified the fuel cells to utilize a form of cold fission, powered by solar energy," Red replied.

"So why is it dead?" Rick asked.

"You would have had to park it in the shade for at least two hours," Red told him, then turned slowly toward the two soldiers, "what were you doing parked in the shade for two hours?" he added, just a little suspicious.

"Well... ya see..." Dex began

"I don't want ta know!" Red yelled, waving the man down. Dex grinned even as he got behind the jeep.

"So we gonna push it into the sun?" he asked, already putting his hands on the fender.

"One, two, three!" Red yelled, him and Rick coming to help as well. Together, they managed to get it out of the ditch and into the sun.

"Thanks Red," Dex said, leaning against the driver's side, "we couldn't get it out ourselves, thing weighs more than our armor."

"Grif... what happened to this fender?" Red asked, noticing that the front was mildly busted.

"What about it?" Dex asked, moving to the front. "Oh. It was like that when we took it out," he said, Rick rolling his eyes under his helmet.

"Un-huh. And the hubcap?" Red asked, crossing his arms and glaring at the orange soldier.

"Man, this neighborhood's really going down the drain," Dex said easily, shaking his head. Red growled.

"I gotta buy those in sets of four, numbnuts," he snarled. Dex shrugged while behind him, the jeep powered up and the usual Mexican polka music started up. "Turn that off," Red barked at Rick. Nodding, the IT expert hopped in and changed the channel, but then something else started.

"Come in, does anyone hear me? Over," came Tex's voice.

"Is that Tex?" Dex asked, hopping up into the driver's seat.

"This is Freelancer Tex, looking for anyone from the Blood Gulch Outposts, do you read? Over," the radio responded.

"Yep. It's her. Can you find out where she is?" Dex said dryly.

"Did you forget who's the Sargent around here, _Private_?" Red asked lowly.

"I have found O'Malley's base. I repeat, I have found O'Malley's base," Tex said.

"O'Malley?" Red said, the rest of his exclamation cut off by Rick saying,

"Working on tracking her signal."

"They seem to be holed up in some kind of a fortress. I'm not sure how I got here, or how they built it, but if you can read this, I need you to get to me as fast as you can," Tex's transmission continued.

"Yeah, working on it lady," Rick snarled, fingers flying across buttons and flicking switches and trying to get a lock on her signal.

"So, any ideas on what to do when we get there, _Sargent_?" Dex asked, loading the word Sargent with so much sarcasm, it oozed.

"Insubordination," Sarge grumbled. Dex grinned.

"Is it? Don't forget, I'm Orange and you're Red. Do we even _have_ ranks?" he asked snidely. Red growled.

"I can still beat you," he snarled. Dex chuckled, leaning easily against the side of the Warthog, arms crossed in casual indifference.

"Sure you can, Red. Sure you can," he drawled. Red quivered.

"Don't patronize me soldier," he said as evenly as he could, though his voice still quivered with rage.

"Aw~! But you're so fun to rile up~!" Dex sang back, grinning like the madman he was.

"My coordinates are two two niner delta by one point three seven gamma," Tex transmitted. The sound of a solid titanium helmet hitting the similarly solid dashboard caused both Red and Dex to turn to the moaning Rick.

"Sure. Why not. Just go right ahead and make me obsolete by _telling us_ your position. How very _kind_ of you. Freelancer," the man muttered darkly. Dex winced. Rick didn't often get mad, but when he did, it wasn't pretty. And not just for the one who'd ticked him off.

"Sarge... get on the gun. We're leaving. _Now_ ," he said, hopping back into the driver's seat and kicking the jeep into drive. The moment Red's boots touched the gunner's platform, Dex was shooting across the desert toward where Eagle, Tucker, and Caboose were.

"I need you guys to come right away. Or better yet, send someone who can fight," Tex's transmission said. Dex growled and pushed the jeep harder.

"No need to patronize us, Freelancer. We're coming, and you'll get your fighters, you smug daughter of a fallen star," he bit out. Rick chuckled, pulling out a knife and testing the edge.

/*/

When they arrived at camp, Eagle jumped to his feet at the sight of the jeep... or maybe it was the deathly silent crew and knife in Rick's hand. Those were usually indicators of a bad attitude or a big fight. "Problem?" he asked, swinging Betty, the sniper rifle Marley had kindly left for him when dropping them off, up into a firing positon.

"Tex. O'Malley. Patronizing. Scumbags. Fight. O'Malley," Rick bit out. Tucker recoiled from the venom in Rick's voice. And the implications of the words he spit out.

"Fudging sweet," Eagle said, then he quirked his head. "Sure we don't have another jeep?" he asked.

"Just. Get. On," Dex bit out, dropping his arms.

"You?" Eagle asked.

"Me, Rick, or Red. Pick your poison," Dex shot back.

"Point," Eagle said, and got on Dex's lap. "Watch your hands." Dex snorted.

"Watch your legs," he countered while Tucker got on Rick and Caboose shared the gunner's platform with Red. "Alright everyone, hold on as best you can and no bickering or I _will_ fling you off, no matter _how_ hard you cling to the jeep. You fall off, you _stay_ off. Please keep hands and feet _in_ side the ride at all times," Dex said, preparing to gun it.

"Just go already!" Red barked. Grinning his daredevil grin, Dex floored it, yelling,

"We're off!" as they rocketed across the sand.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" Tucker yelled, flung backwards into Rick and scrambling to grab onto what might have been called a roll bar.

"HA HA! I told you to hold on tight!" Dex laughed, flying around a pillar of stone at well over eighty miles an hour.

"You're insane!" Tucker yelled.

"No I'm not!" Dex countered, jerking around another pillar, rocking the jeep onto two wheels, "I'm just doing my job!"

"You're job's insane!" Tucker yelled back.

"Blame Sarge!" Dex redirected, jumping a ditch. "Speaking of, that's what I was trying when we got stuck Red!"

"Shut up and drive idiot!" Red yelled back, thanking his lucky stars when he didn't bite his tongue. Dex laughed and turned the rest of his attention to driving and getting them to Tex's coordinates on time.

/*/

When they finally got to the beach where Tex was waiting, all of them were ready to get out of the jeep and _away_ from each other. "What took you guys so lo..." Tex began, but stopped quickly as a sniper round bit into the sand at her feet.

"There's six of us, and three seats. What do you think?" Dex grumbled, Eagle still aiming at the black armored Freelancer.

"You're still mad?" she asked the, now pink she noted, soldier.

"Yes," he said curtly, not shifting at all. Red decided now was the time to intervene.

"What did you find, Tex?" he asked.

"Well, O'Malley's holed up in his fortress. He's been fortifying his defenses for a few days now. Luckily, it's just him and a rather determined head," Tex answered, turning to the red Simulation Trooper.

"A determined head? What good is a determined head?" asked Tucker. Tex turned to him, making him take an unconscious step backwards.

"Well, he fixed the gun turrets. How many heads do you know that can do that?" she asked drily.

"Oh. That _is_ determined. I stand corrected," Tucker said with a nod. The Reds shared a look, then turned to Tex.

"It didn't happen to be brown, did it?" Dex asked. He had a feeling he already knew the answer to that, but he also wanted to make sure.

"Yeah, it was," Tex said with a nod. Dex mimicked her then said, quite firmly,

"I need it." Tex, had she been able, would have blinked at the man.

"Well, if you can sang it before my bomb blows up the compound, you can have it. If not... well maybe you can dig it out of the rubble," she said. Dex frowned.

"Bomb?" Tex stepped to the side to show a rather large ball. "Ah. Bomb. Got it. How do you plan to plant it? I'm guessing if you could plant the bomb by yourself, you'd have done it already," Dex said, crossing his arms.

"Well, first, we have to breach the outer wall," Tex said, motioning to the large wall behind her.

"Oh. I love breaching!" Caboose called. The others skillfully ignored him and Tex continued as though he hadn't spoken.

"Then, we have to get past another wall." Rick snorted, but refrained from speaking. "The second wall has a guard tower, and an enormous razor-sharp spinning blade." Again, Rick refrained from speaking,even though he _really_ wanted to comment on how the blade wasn't going to be a problem at all, not with how slow the thing was turning. "After that, we have to get past the gun turrets, and break into the building."

"And then we attack O'Malley," Red said with savage glee, pumping his shotgun.

"No. That's when we plant that," Tex corrected, motioning to the bomb. Caboose, of course, didn't remember it.

"We're planting... a volleyball," he said.

"It's not a ball. It's a bomb," Tex corrected, with far more patience than the others would have given her credit for. Eh, learn something new every day.

"We're planting a volleybomb?" Caboose asked after a beat. Tex decided that, for once, the other Blood Gulchers had the right idea and so ignored the blue soldier boy and turned to the, at least semi, serious troopers.

"I've scouted a location inside the base where we can set it off and take the whole place down. I marked the spot with a big X," she told them.

"You scouted it," Tucker said, sounding mildly disbelieving. Tex once again gave off the feeling of having blinked in confusion.

"Yeah," she stated slowly.

"If you got past the two walls, the huge spinning blade, the gun turrets, and made it all the way into the fortress, why didn't you just plant the bomb then instead of putting a big X on the floor?" Tucker asked. Dex shook his head and walked forward, placing a hand on Tucker's shoulder.

"Some badasses are badasses because of skill more than physical strength, Tucker," he said lowly before looking toward Tex. "It's super heavy, isn't it?" he asked. She nodded and Dex sighed before walking forward and attempting to lift it. "Whoa! Yeah. No wonder you called us. This thing... it weighs more than a Warthog!" he exclaimed.

"I can carry it," Caboose said, trotting toward the bomb.

"I guarantee you'll need two people," Tex said, clearly doubting what the childish soldier could do. Tucker chuckled.

"No, it's true. He's got _crazy_ strength. Church and I think it's God's way of compensating," he said, watching as Caboose more or less easily lifted the bomb.

"See," the soldier said, voice barely strained.

"Great Paul's Bunyan, he's like an ox," Red said, staring at the Blue in shock.

"But I have no horns... or lumberjack friends," Caboose grunted out, still holding the bomb. Dex shook his head at him.

"We know buddy. Go ahead and set it down until it's time to move out. Save your arms," he said, motioning the Blue down. Caboose gratefully set the bomb down.

"Okay. So... you're going to blow up the building, killing the innocent that's being manipulated by _your_ old A.I. that _you_ brought into the canyon and burying the robotic head that holds our orders from command... and you expect us to _help you_?" Dex asked, then shook his head. "If the bomb is too heavy for us, then whats to say the rubble won't be? No. If that thing's going down, we're getting Lopez and Doc out of there first."

"Wait... let me get this straight. The biggest threat we know of is in that building... and you want to get him out _before_ I blow it up?" Tex asked, disbelieving.

"Pretty much, yeah," Dex said, then jerked a thumb at Rick. "I've already asked our resident geek if there's a way to get O'Malley out of Doc's head while still allowing us to know exactly where he is. If we can convince Doc to bully O'Malley into a storage unit, all we have to do is pull it and leave it in the building while we blow it up. Either it gets melted, crushed, or buried. No matter what, it's unusable by anyone else."

"Yeah, sorry, but I'm not too sure you can convince this Doc person to bully O'Malley into storage. Not even I could do that. I'm blowing it up," Tex said.

"There's a high possibility that a modified storage unit could be used to pull O'Malley directly from the armor. It'll cause Doc extreme pain, but it's theoretically doable, and I can make the modifications," Rick informed her. "I'll just need an hour or two."

"Sorry, but there is no way I'm letting O'Malley get away this time," Tex said. Dex groaned, Rick made strangling motions, Red growled, and Eagle shot an annoying seagull.

/*/

While watching the Reds talk with Tex was fun and all, and they were being amazingly scary for Blood Gulchers, it was getting kinda boring. And the Reds were acting stupid. Scary, but stupid. "Just hire her," Tucker said from inside the jeep, shrugging. They all turned to him. The fact that they did so in perfect lockstep was a little creepy, but Tucker did his best not to show it. The full body armor helped. A lot. They can't see the fear on your face if they can't see past your visor after all.

"What?" the orange one, Grif, asked. Tucker shrugged, firmly telling himself these were still the same idiots he 'fought' for three years.

"Hire her to help you get Lopez back. She'll do _anything_ for money," he said, as nonchalant as he could manage. Which was pretty laid back, if he did say so himself.

"That's not true," Tex defended easily, as though stating a fact and only mildly offended that he'd suggest otherwise. He quirked an eyebrow at the Freelancer from his comfortable position.

"It's not?" he asked, incredulous, then decided to prove his point by offering, "I'll give you ten bucks to tear off Grif's arm." He skillfully ignored the visor staring at him. And the 'I-will-kill-you-slowly-and-painfully' vibes the orange soldier was putting out.

"Which one's Grif?" Tex asked, turning toward the Reds. Tucker nodded slightly as she proved his point perfectly with those three words.

"See, she's not even really _on_ Blue Team. She was just paid to come help us," Tucker explained, snickering slightly as Grif pointed at Simmons and said, 'he's Grif.' Simmons apparently ignored the threat to his limbs and asked,

"How do we pay her? We don't have any money. We don't even know what money _is_ in this future."

"Yeah, they could have shells, or laser beams for currency," Grif added. Simmons jerked slightly before weaving on the spot to look at his teammate.

"Laser beams? Really Grif?" he asked.

"Hyeah! That would be the coolest wallet ever," Grif responded, and Tucker could hear his grin. Deciding he really didn't want _another_ lover's spat, no matter how hard they denied it, Tucker put forth a rather logical idea. Especially for a Blue from Blood Gulch.

"Why don't you trade her a favor?" he suggested. This got all the Reds to turn to him. Again. The cyan soldier could imagine they were all quirking unimpressed eyebrows at him.

"A favor?" Grif asked.

"Yeah. Have her do this for you, and then you guys owe her a favor. That's how these Freelancers get stuff done, right?" Tucker responded, though he addressed the last sentence to Tex, who nodded.

"That'll work. I'll help you, and then the two of you have to do something for me," she said.

"Alright, let's do that," Simmons said, but Grif held up a hand.

"Hold on! I like knowing at least _something_ of what I'm getting myself into before I agree," he told the maroon soldier, before turning to the Freelancer. "So, what kind of favor might you have in mind," he asked her, openly suspicious.

"It all depends," Tex said with a shrug. Grif wasn't going to let it go with that.

"On what?" he demanded.

"Onnn what I need. To do some future job," Tex said.

"But it could be just about anything, right?" Grif challenged. Tucker was glad they weren't too far from each other, otherwise it would be rather tiring watching them and would likely give him a crick in the neck from how much rapid twisting he was doing.

"That's right. Anything."

"I draw the line at seduction. Any kind of seduction," Grif said firmly, crossing his arms and leaning back on his left leg. Tucker thought it was kind of a girly pose, but from how Simmons was edging backwards, he got the feeling there was more to it than just posing.

"Fine. I can agree to that," Tex said and Grif nodded before shifting his weight back onto both feet and holding out his right hand, his left falling limply by his side, palm facing her.

"Then we have a deal. You help us get Lopez's head, I help you on some future job," he said.

"Eh, I was hoping for..." Tex began before Simmons stepped up, in the exact same pose. Again, Tucker was getting the feeling there was more to it than what he was seeing. "You have a deal," Tex said, shaking first Simmons' hand and then Grif's.

"Thing is... you're going to have to actually, ya know, _call_ us when you need help," Grif said, not releasing her hand.

"Wha..." Tex began, then looked down for a moment.

"Just so you know," the orange soldier said cryptically, causing Tex to bring her head back up with a snap, before walking toward Sarge and Caboose.

"What just happened?" Tucker asked, walking up to Tex.

"Let me get back to you on that," Tex said, tucking something into a pocket in her armor, before striding after Grif. "Okay, we're ready to go!" she yelled. Caboose sighed and picked the bomb back up before following the Freelancer.

"Man. When did my life go all sideways?" Tucker asked as he jogged after the others.

/*/

Marley sighed, watching two of her old teammates step aboard her home sweet ship. "Well. I suppose I should say 'thank you,'" she drawled, winding bandages around her leg, "but honestly," she said, tying it off at last and sitting back in her seat, "I had hoped to leave you out of this." Mich sighed, running a hand through his short cropped, platinum blond hair, dark brown eyes wearily taking in her form.

"You look like you've been run through an ancient clothes press and then used as a soccer ball. I don't think you'd have survived if Flowers hadn't called us in," Louie said bluntly, dark auburn bangs falling loosely into his dark blue eyes. Marley sighed, but nodded.

"I see that now. I was... being foolish. I should have paced myself and focused on the fight in front of me and not how my boys were faring," she said. Mich and Louie shared a look.

"Your boys?" Mich asked tentatively, turning back to the downed Agent.

/*/

Tex pulled the paper out of her pocket as she lead the Reds and Blues closer to the fort. ' _Agent Texas, I know who and what you are._ ' Had she still had lungs, her breath would have caught at that, but she shook her head and pressed on. ' _If you are reading this, you've entered a deal with one of us. I hope you make the most of this, Tex._

 _Project Red:_

 _Founder: Agent Black – SG-1-77-27-B1AC7 – specialty: doctor, pilot_

 _Senior Agent: Agent Orange – GC-2-44-19-O4AN1 – specialty: weapons expert, transport. Makes a decent leader, can pass as a medic if needed_

 _Agent Maroon – AO-9-47-O7HS7 – specialty: tech of just about any kind, knives, and pistols. Decent scout_

 _Agent Red – PI-3-76-A4OS2 – specialty: unarmed combat, shotguns_

 _Agent Burgundy – EX-8-37-C2UF4 – specialty: sniper, grenades_

 _Agent Hippie – AE-2-59-R8TY5 – specialty: mid range weapons, pilot, planner_

 _Don't hesitate to call,_

 _Oregon._ '

/*/

"Wait wait, let me get this straight," Mich said, waving his hands in a 'stop!' motion, "you stole a whole team of Sim Troopers off of Freelancer and turned them into that shadow organization that's got half the galaxy on the fritz... and then _wrote your contact information and specialties on a piece of paper!?_ Just so you could eventually get it to Tex, who you somehow knew would make a deal with one or more of your guys?"

"Yep, that about sums it up," Marley said brightly. Mich shook his head while Louie whistled.

"You're one crazy soldier, Marley," he said, chuckling. She shrugged, unperturbed by their reactions.

"What can I say, I like to keep the world guessing," she said with a grin.

"Heh, just the world?" Mich asked. Marley gave him a flat look.

"That was all encompassing, Michigan, and you know it," she stated.

/*/

Tex nearly stopped to stare at the state name written neatly under the list of names, numbers, and specialties. ' _Oregon..._ ' she thought as she tucked the note back into her pocket. ' _I should have known it was you behind the Reds._ '

/*/

"You do realize that was a stupid, risky, move, right?" Louie asked.

"Hey! I know what I'm doing alright? And if she calls me first, which I have a feeling she will, I'll be able to get York out. Get him off the streets and off the Freelancer 'Active' roster. Convincingly," Marley countered. The pair shared a look, remembering how she got them out, then sighed, dropping their heads at the same time.

"Fine. But the next time you feel like laying siege to an entire army, _call us_!" Louie relented. Marley grinned and gave them a nod before shooing them off.

"You're in for quite some recovery time. Maybe we should let them hang around. Just for a few days," Flowdie said softly, taking her uninjured hand in his and softly stoking it with his rough thumb. She sighed, flopping her head over toward him.

"I don't think I can argue this one with you, Flowers," she said muzzily before falling asleep. Unwillingly. Flowdie sighed and carried her to her bed. This... was not going to be fun.

/?/

A/N: Eh, didn't work so well without the Red Zealot, but I couldn't really work him in without Simmons bringing the Battle Creek guys in to fight O'Malley. It's kind of like the Spanish!Lopez jokes. It doesn't work without context!

A/N 2: More continuity and spelling edits. 8/20/16


	29. Episode 27

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB. Or anything else I happen to reference.

 **Episode 27:** The Results of Planning

Once again, the Reds, Blues, and Tex were standing around, talking. Though, Red was doing a good amount of the talking. "Okay, listen up, Dirtbags!" he barked. "If we're gonna invade this fortress, we need a good game plan. I have two options we can use." Dex groaned, but Red paid it no mind. "Number one, we all run _straight at the base_ in a single file line, screaming at the top of our lungs. The enemy will be so flabbergasted, by the time they have a chance to regroup, we'll already be inside."

"Oh, yeah, right. No. They're not gonna be surprised, they're just gonna start mowing us down!" Tucker objected. Red turned to him with a slight chuckle.

"That's the inherent beauty of the single file line. They can only kill the person in front. So, if we order from least important to most important, with Tucker being in front and me being in the back, then we just might make it through," Red said. Rick scoffed.

"A, you're not the most important person to the success of this mission, Red Sargent. And B, no. _We_ don't have a chance with that plan, _you_ do. I'm sorry, but not with ten thousand men could you do this, it is folly," he said. Dex chuckled.

"Yeah, gotta agree. Though, I also have to say... While that may be the most retarded idea I've ever heard, I would like to thank you for not putting me at the front of the line," he said.

"Don't get misty, Francine. We'd have already killed you and used your corpse to jam up the windmill," Red said. Dex sighed while everyone else just stared at Red. "It's perfect, given out current situation." Everyone continued to stare at him. "Okay, well, my other idea was to use parts from the Warthog..."

"STOP!" yelled Dex, spreading out his arms. Surprisingly, this got Red to stop. "No-one is touching my baby! I've put too much work into calibrating that thing and gotten far too attached to the piece of salvage for you to dismantle it for something like a Grif Cannon! In fact, I'm just about done with this whole charade, orders or no. So, either you come up with a plan that leaves _all_ of us with at least a _chance_ of survival, or you let someone else take over leadership. I've had it with your disregard for our lives," he said, glaring at Red. The other soldier sighed and hung his head.

"Fine. Tex, Grif, what do you two have in mind?" he asked. Tucker jerked and looked toward Dex, who settled back and closed his eyes, thinking over their skills and ranges.

"What just happened?" Tucker asked, looking between the thinking Dex and the slightly slumped Red. Rick chuckled and threw an arm around Tucker's shoulder.

"Well, my Blue friend, the alpha Red just got schooled by the omega Orange, who is, at least for now, the new alpha," he said. Tucker stared at him.

"Grif made Sarge acknowledge that he had good plans and that Sarge's plans weren't worth a spent frag grenade," Eagle explained. Tucker let out an understanding 'ah' and nodded before turning back to Dex and Tex.

/*/

Tex nearly jumped when Grif suddenly pointed at her. "You any good as a sniper, Agent?" he barked. She found herself reflexively nodding. Grif nodded back and turned to Eagle. "You'll go with Tex. Find a vantage point and take out the turrets. I don't care how you do it, just make it happen. Take Tucker with you, in case you're spotted."

"I'm good..." Tex began, not really sure why she was trying to defend herself. Not that it really mattered, as Grif cut her off.

"I'm sure you are. Heck, I've seen you in action before. No, I'm not doubting your skills. I'm doubting your willingness to cover an absolutely worthless close combat fighter. At least on your own. That's why I'm sending Tucker with you. Plus, I've heard he has pretty good eyes. He'll act as a spotter for the both of you," he said before whirling around to point at Sarge. "You'll escort Caboose down the stairs and along the left side of the base. He dose _not_ get shot, you understand? We lose him, we lose the payload. We lose the payload... Tex kills us for not holding up our end of the bargain. Caboose! You carry the bomb. Drop it anywhere but the marker, we lose the game. Understand?" Caboose nodded and Grif turned to Simmons. "You're with me."

"I'm almost scared to ask but... what are we doing?" Simmons asked, and if his voice quavered... well. No-one would say anything.

"Sadly, we get stuck with the most dangerous job. Again," Grif sighed. "We're going to be acting as bullet magnets, drawing their fire and giving the sniper team a chance to take out the turrets. Preferably leaving the operators alive. Maimed... eh, I can deal with that, but I _need_ them _alive._ Tex, you got that? _Alive_ , Freelancer." Tex glared at the orange soldier, but she nodded. "Wonderful. Any problems and or questions?"

"Yeah. When did you become a strategist?" asked Tucker. Grif shrugged.

"Not sure. I guess... I learned on the job," he said. Tex had a feeling there was a story behind that... then she felt like bashing her head into the wall. Of course. Agent Orange. How could she forget. "Anything else?"

"Yeah... I don't have a sniper rifle," Tex said, raising her hand. Orange shrugged.

"Then bullet lob. Or ask Eagle for a grenade... or ten," he said. Tex turned to look at the pink soldier. The young man chuckled and pulled out a pair of grenades... and then another... and another... until he has nearly twenty on the sand. "Yeah... I don't know how he does it, but he _always_ has grenades on him. It's freaky," Orange said, motioning for Eagle, or Burgundy, to put it all away. Shrugging, the ranged expert did so, and far quicker than Tex thought possible. Seeing her stare, Eagle titled his head.

"Practice," he said, and Tex could hear the grin in his voice. She scoffed.

"You're still an amateur," she said, getting a laugh out of the pink trooper.

"Well, I am the rookie of Red Team," he said before stalking off toward the wall. "You guys coming?" Shaking their heads, Tex and Tucker followed.

/*/

Once the Above Team was away, Dex tapped Rick on the shoulder and jerked his head toward the front gate. Sighing, Rick pulled out his twin pistols and followed the mission leader into the fort. "You know, I'm a little surprised that Tex went along with your plan," Rick told his friend. Dex snorted.

"She would have come up with the same plan, or similar," he said with a shrug. "I gave her a note from Marley," he added seriously, causing Rick to sharply turn his head to look at him.

"Marley gave you a note for Tex?" he asked. Nodding, Dex pointed toward a large rock, signaling for them to move up. "Well, what did it say?" Rick pressed as they moved.

"Not sure, but I have a feeling that it had our contact information and our specialties. I was told to give it to Tex with the words, 'just so you know,' should we make a deal. I should have remembered before Tucker said anything but..." Dex trailed off with a shrug and Rick nodded. A moment later, Red spoke over the radio.

"B Team in position." Dex tensed slightly, Rick mimicking. A single click came over the channel, followed by Tex saying,

"A Team, ready."

"Go time," Dex declared, and vaulted over the rock, Rick rolling around the left side with a yell and flurry of bullets. O'Malley laughed as he fired on the fools, Lopez providing support. "Snipers!" Dex yelled, frustration clear in his voice. "Remember, need the head intact and the Purple Idiot alive!"

"Ya know, I miss the old days, when we _didn't_ risk our lives, and you guys were all just a bunch of nameless jerks I would yell at with Church," Tucker remarked. Dex actually found it in himself to chuckle.

"It's okay. We hate you too man," he said, faking getting all chocked up. "Now _will one of you please take out those fudging turrets!?_ " A single shot rang out, and knocked Lopez's head off the turret he was somehow firing. "Thank you! Tucker, you and Tex cross the bridge, try to pin O'Malley down. Eagle, support. Rick and I will try to hold his attention."

"Roger that, Orange Leader," Eagle's voice said, causing Dex to moan and Rick to chuckle.

"Wait, why do I have to..." Tucker began, but Rick swiftly cut him off.

"We're facing the machine gun _and_ O'Malley's rocket launcher. Once again, Dex has picked the most dangerous mission, and dragged me along for the painful ride. You don't _get_ to complain," he barked.

"Right. Have fun with that!" Tucker said before the line went dead.

"Right. How're we gonna do this, Dex?" Rick asked, turning to his comrade. Dex looked back, tilting his head in a way reminiscent of Han Solo before raiding the shield control center on Endor... or of every other time they'd run head long into danger.

"Same way we always do. Charge in and do our best to dodge," Dex answered before throwing himself back into view and firing a few bursts at O'Malley before ducking behind another, closer, piece of cover. Rick followed, though he went in a slightly different direction and threw insults as well as bullets. Yep. Just your average Friday Fire Fight.

/*/

Meanwhile, Tex and Tucker had reached the windmill. "I can't see him from here. Let's move out," Tex told her still somewhat grouchy partner as she ran across the fan blade.

"Okay, but jus..." whatever else Tucker was going to say was cut off in a yell and the muffled 'thud' of a heavy body landing on a thick layer of dust. Surprised, Tex ran to the edge of the hole and looked down.

"Tucker! Are you okay?" she asked. Hey, she may have been a fragment of the Alpha A.I., but she wasn't a total jerk like Church.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I dropped down into some kind of hole. Can you give me a hand?" Tucker called back up. Bullets drew Tex's attention and she shook her head.

"Let me take care of this turret. I'll be back for you later." Okay, so she was _kind of_ a jerk, but she was still better at caring than Church! Looking around to see if he couldn't find an exit, when something else caught his eye.

"What is that? Hoaho, what the heck it this?" he asked, picking up the strange object. "Maybe this isn't so bad after all."

/*/

Unfortunately, no plan survives contact with the enemy and so, Caboose was on his own and Red was yelling at O'Malley. Of course, this drew some of the heat off of Dex and Rick, but it also left Caboose without a babysitter. "I'm pinned!" Tex yelled. Dex was about to ask where Tucker was, when said cyan soldier showed up next to O'Malley.

"Hey jerk!" he yelled, making the possessed Doc turn. Tucker pulled out the strange, glowing blade he'd found in the hole.

"What is that?" O'Malley asked.

"Need him alive, Tucker!" Dex reminded forcefully. Tucker didn't say a word, he just ran forward and sliced the medic on the arm, then the leg, and sat on him. "Eh. Guess that works. Rick! Get up there! I'm going after Caboose," Dex said, moving off after the simple Blue. Tex was staring at Tucker's new weapon.

"Hey, where'd you get that?" she asked. Tucker shrugged, still sitting on O'Malley.

"I dunno. I found it in the hole. Pretty cool. Look what..." he said, moving to get up.

"Now's not the time to show off, Lover Boy," Rick snarked over the radio. Tucker pouted, and tried to sit more heavily on O'Malley. He was met with limited success.

"Hey, you wanna trade it for this sniper rifle I found?" Tex offered, holding said rifle out to him. Tucker shook his head.

"No thanks. I'm good," he said, truly pleased with his new find. Hey, if Tex wanted it, he wasn't gonna give it up!

/*/

Not long after Tucker and Tex's exchange, Rick reached their position. "Thanks for holding him steady, Tucker. Now Doc, I'm not sure if you can hear me, but I'm going to try and get O'Malley out of your head. It will likely hurt, but you'll thank me in the long term," the Red told the pinned medic.

"Do what you need to. I'm not going anywhere," Doc said. Rick frowned even as he set to work. Doc sounded... weird. Not O'Malley weird just... Wait. He knew that kind of weird! He'd heard it when Grif went from 'Grif' to 'Dex'! Forcing those thoughts aside, Rick grit his teeth as he prepared the capture unit.

"For what it's worth... I'm sorry," he said, before he drove the capture spike into Doc's chest. The man let out a loud, pain filled scream, then went limp. The capture unit lit up an angry red and Rick pulled it from the limp body. "You can get up now, Tucker," Rick said, retracting the capture spike and locking the unit. "Dex, I have O'Malley. Have Caboose plant the bomb and let's get out of here."

"Roger. Red! Find Lopez's head. I think it was operating the right turret," Dex said.

"Wait... how was he pullin' the triggers?" Red asked. Rick smirked.

"He's always been rather determined," he said.

"And you're sure it was him?" Red said, as though refusing to believe Lopez would fight him.

"Well, I heard screaming in Spanish, and bullets flying through the air. So either that was Lopez, or this is Mexican New Year," Dex said.

"So where..." Red began.

"Tex shot it off the turret with a sniper round. If it's still operable, it should be near the turret. Even if it's inactive, as long as the memory unit is intact, I can get our plans off it," Rick said, bored with the banter, then turned to Tex. "You wouldn't happen to know where that robot head you shot landed would you?" he asked.

"No."

"Just checking. Now help me get this guy out of here," Rick said, picking up Doc's torso. Together, the three of them got the medic out. Along with the capture unit, though how they carried that out as well is anyone's guess seeing as their hands were full of Doc and Tex wasn't inclined to touch the thing much less carry it out of the condemned structure.

/*/

Red was a bit bamboozled when Caboose ran up to him, yammering about finding someone mean. Even meaner than O'Malley! So, naturally, everyone came to find out what it was, baring Tucker and Tex, who had been left to guard Doc, as well as the capture unit that somehow ended up in the sand beside the hapless medic. Turned out, Caboose had found a recording of Church in a computer. "And you call that meaner than the guy trying to destroy the universe?" Dex asked dryly.

"YES!" Caboose said. Just then, the recording looped. "See? It's Church, ahand he's being meaner than ever!" The recording looped again. "Church. I can hear you. Can you hear me?" Again, the recording looped. "Church. I can hear you. How are you?" Church repeated.

"It's a recording," Rick said flatly. Dex chuckled.

"Shush, I wanna see how long this lasts," he said. "I'm also recording this for Tex and Tucker."

"Well in that case, send me a copy too. I'll make a 'Freelancer Reacts' video out of it," Rick said.

"Deal."

"Church. I can hear you. Do you miss me?" Caboose asked. Red, tired of the whole thing, told Caboose to move over, and started messing with the console. "I carried the bomb and found Church. I, am a very important person."

"Yeah. I'm real impressed there buddy," Dex remarked.

"Hmm. I think I can reroute power from the main coupling to the memory..." Red began, but Dex strode forward and hit 'play.' "HEY!" Red said, bouncing to his feet.

"You want to give me more reason to beat you to within an inch of your life?" Dex growled across their secure channel. Red backed down quickly after that, and Church's message began to play.

"Caboose, I know you're there. I'm leaving this message from two thousand years in the past. Whatever you do, _don't. Touch. Anything_. Apparently, you're this culture's version of the apocalypse. You're going to destroy this building, and somehow bring about doom for their entire race," Church's voice said. Caboose, apparently, didn't agree.

"Mmmmmmmnooo... that doesn't sound like me. I like people. And buildings also," he said. Rick blinked and turned to Caboose.

"Wait. Where did you put that bomb?" he asked.

"I put it on the X. Like... I was s'posed to," Caboose answered. It might have just been his imagination, but Rick thought Caboose actually sounded worried.

"Perhaps we should get out of here," Dex suggested.

"Whatever you do, don't touch the glowing weapon thing they have stored there," Church went on. Rick groaned, palming his visor.

"Too late huh?" Dex asked. Rick nodded. "Nutty fudge," Dex said, hanging his head.

"And if you do, definitely don't bring it into the main building. Otherwise, the whole place is gonna lock down and you're gonna be trapped," Church said.

"Oh. Well that should be okay," Rick said, just before Tucker came running into the building yelling,

"O'Malley broke free!" The building locked down, steel shudders falling over the windows and bars sliding into place over the doors.

"Ah~! Spoke too soon," Rick moaned.

"Would you stop saying bad things that come true! Or, say them ten seconds earlier!" Caboose yelled at the computer. Red contacted Tex and told her not to detonate the bomb... only to find out...

"I don't have a detonator. It's on..." Tex was running, and had just left helmet-to-helmet range.

"I think we might be in trouble," Red told the others, talking over the last of Church's message. A moment later, the computer 'helpfully' displayed that they had three minutes.

"Three minutes? She expected us to... oh wait. That's not counting how long we've been standing here, listening to the recording. I retract my unfinished statement," Dex said, leaning against one of the steel shudders. The first minute after lock down was filled with a lot of screaming and running around before Red declared,

"Men, I don't want this to sound pessimistic, but I'm absolutely certain we're going to die!"

"Yeah, that's a _totally_ objective assessment of the situation, sir," Rick remarked, voice dripping with sarcasm. Tucker was beating on the shudder next to Dex's with his glowing sword thing.

"What if we just beat on these window shudders together. I think we can get 'em open," he said.

"No. That would be the coward's way out. Fruit..." Red began, before he was forced to dodge a knife.

"The Blue's in an open window. I think he might be onto something," Rick said.

"I don't care if we draw attention, in a life-or-death situation, _drop the act!_ " Dex growled. That was when Church, the _real_ Church, popped into existence on the other side other side of the bars behind Caboose.

"Hey everybody, what's up?" he asked.

"I am so happy that you made it in time to die with me. We will get to be smithereens together!" Caboose exclaimed.

"Yeah, that won't be necessary, Caboose," Church said, then turned to the computer. "Hey Gary, how ya doin'?" he asked. The computer answered, in a monotone voice,

"Not bad. Although my static ion sub-matrix is a little itchy," while displaying his words in green block text.

"The computer can talk?" questioned Rick, wondering if it was an A.I.

"The computer's name is _Gary?_ " Dex asked, wondering who would name their computer that. It was such a dorky name! Said computer ignored them all, and spoke to Church.

"How have you been, Church?" The cobalt soldier shrugged.

"Good, thanks for asking. Listen, would you do me a favor? Could you shut off the bomb please," he said.

"No problem," Gary answered, and the bomb defused with one second left on the clock.

"Gahr, you mean to tell me you could have turned off the bomb this whole time, and you didn't say so? And don't say I didn't..." Red ranted at the computer, but said computer finished the question.

"You didn't ask." Red growled something unintelligible and stalked off. Church, however, seemed to be rather pleased.

"Man, it is really great to see you guys," he said.

"You seem like you're in a good mood," Tucker noted. Church turned to him.

"I learned a very valuable lesson in my travels, Tucker. No matter how bad things might seem," he said, in what might be called a wise tone, when Caboose finished the saying for him.

"They could be worse." However, that apparently wasn't what Church had in mind.

"Nope. No matter how bad they seem, the can't be any better, and they can't be any worse, because that's the way things freaking are, and you better get used to it Nancy. Quit yer whining," he said.

"Where have you been?" Caboose asked, echoing just about everyone's thoughts on the matter.

"You want the long version or the short version?" Church asked.

"I will take the easy version please," Caboose responded, though Tucker seemed to think this was the perfect opportunity for some fun.

"Oh, I wanna hear the long version, but can you tell me in three parts?" he asked.

"What did you hear," Dex asked, coming up to the three Blues. Church turned, and Dex had a feeling the Blue was highly confused.

"What do you mean?" he asked. Dex sighed.

"Over at Red Base. What did you hear, who did you meet, and what did you learn?" he said.

"Nothing man! I was more focused on my guys!" Church said defensively. Dex hummed, narrowing his eyes at the Blue.

"Really? Because your little mini speech to your Blue Buddies was a lot like my training officer's point of view," he said. That was when his helmet's radio buzzed.

/*/

Tired and bored out of her skull, Marley contacted the Reds. For no good reason, she started with Dex. She waited a moment to hear what was going on. She didn't want to interrupt a battle or anything. "If I find out..." Dex said, then seemed to realize the channel was open. "Marley."

"Um... am I... interrupting something over there?" she asked tentatively.

"No. You ever meet Church?" Dex replied. Marley sighed.

"He showed back up huh? No. We've never actually met," she said, just as Flowdie came in.

"Who?" he asked, sitting beside her, eyebrow raised.

"Church," she responded. Flowdie let out a small 'ah' and waved for her to continue, pulling out an unfinished carving. "So... where are you?" she asked.

"Not too sure. But I delivered your message. Good thing we made that deal when we did, otherwise I doubt we'd ever see Tex again. See, we caught O'Malley in Rick's capture unit, but somehow the crazy A.I. got out, took over Doc again, and once again forced his wounded body to run away. Tex gave chase," Dex informed them. Marley let out a loud, and far more colorful than usual, curse as she slammed her fist onto the dash board of her ship. Flowdie gave her a worried glance. It was unusual for Marley to lose her temper in such a manner. Did she have a bigger soft spot for Doc than he thought?

"What did you do," Marley asked, suddenly deathly calm. Flowdie could just imagine how confused Dex was right now.

"Um... You'd better ask Rick for more details on Doc and O'Malley. As for right now, I'm having a really weird conversation after trying to figure out just how much Church knew about us. He's currently giving me the robot version of the 'dude... what the fudge?' look," Dex said. Flowdie laughed. Loudly.

"Oh man, I wish I could see that! HA! Dex, you just made my day, soldier!" he said.

"Glad I could be of assistance there, Mad Cyan," Dex quipped. Marley sighed, banging her head on the dash. Repeatedly.

"Could we get back to the matter at hand?" she asked wearily.

"And that would be?" Dex asked. "Honestly, I am totally lost... and there are no compasses for this kind of thing."

"I want a debrief," Marley stated. Dex let out a hissing breath.

"Yyyeaaaaahhhh... could you call back later? Or, better yet, I'll call _you_ later? Kinda... kinda in the middle of a small scale crisis here," he said, then forcefully cut the transmission. To say Marley was steamed would be an understatement.

"I'll set our course," Flowdie said, taking the controls.

"How do..." Marley began, but Flowdie cut her off with a smile.

"You said they wound up back at Blood Gulch not long after Church popped back up, so that's where we'll go. Once there, it'll just be us and the Reds. You'd be free to plow a cornfield with their faces, one after another," he said. Marley gaped at him, then slowly grinned.

"Have I ever told you I _love_ how your devious mind works?" she purred. Flowdie chuckled.

"Nope. But it's nice to know," he said, gunning the ships propulsion systems and sending The Ghost screaming through space toward Blood Gulch.

/*/

Dex sighed, looking back toward Church. "Sorry about that. That was... someone I thought you knew. It's no big deal," he said. Church just stood there, staring at him. "So! I'm gonna..."

"We made a deal, Dex," Church finally said. Dex tilted his head to the right.

"Deal?"

"Yeah. I tell you guys about Freelancer, you guys tell me about you. Well, I'm ready to hold up my end of the deal. Are you?" Church said. Dex looked around, then sighed.

"Not around Gary. I don't trust that guy. If we ever get back to Blood Gulch, I'll do what I can. It'd... also help if the person I was talking to would be there. Trust me, if I spill the beans before Black gives me the go ahead..." he shuddered theatrically. "Let's just say, O'Malley is Doc in comparison to an angry Black." Church would have paled had he been flesh and blood.

"Okay then. I'm... gonna go... catch up with my guys. Bye," he said, then fled. Dex chuckled.

"Yeah. I thought so," he said before heading back to where Rick was fiddling with the Warthog. "Got a plan?"

"Nah man, just scanning the frequencies for some practice. There's also a chance I'll pick up someth..." Rick said before a distress signal cut him off. "Speak of the plot," he muttered, sitting up and leaning over the radio in increased interest.

"Distress, distress, help, we don't need any more distress, distress, whoah man, it's a lot of distress," a high pitched, frantic voice said. Dex could almost see Rick's determination and anger.

"Dex... prime the jeep. I'm getting Eagle and Sarge," he said. Dex shivered slightly. Most people when they got royally ticked were loud, demonstrative, reckless, and violent. When Rick was royally ticked, he was quiet, methodical, and precise... though that could easily translate to him going silent, building a bomb, implanting it into your armor as you sleep, and programming it to explode when you said a certain phrase or went above or below a certain speed. And right then... Rick's voice was quite and quivering with tightly controlled rage.

"Heaven help those poor idiots," Dex said, running systems checks on everything, "they just called out a monster."

/?/

A/N: Yeah, a little shorter than my usual monsters, but if I added another full episode's worth... Yikes! Anyway, hope you enjoyed this and let me know if there's something specific you'd like to see in a future Episode.

A/N 2: Continuity and spelling have been checked over, though I have to say, this is where things start to go a little funny. Let's hope I can keep up with myself. 8/20/16


	30. Episode 28

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB.

 **Episode 28:** The Revenge of Blood Gulch

Rick easily found Red and Eagle, and brought them to the jeep. "Now! What's all this about?" Red asked, seeing just how tense his men were.

"Distress call. Heavy fire," Rick said tersely, hopping onto the gunner platform. Eagle sighed.

"And we were all _just_ starting to get along," he said mournfully, joining Rick on the now crowded gunner platform.

"Yeah, I'm _so_ going to be losing sleep over this," Dex drawled, sarcasm dripping from his words. "You said you locked the coordinates into the nav computer?" he checked.

"Yes. Drive," Rick snapped back. Dex shook his head and gave Red as pointed a look as he could from behind his visor.

"Aw fine. But only because you're the best driver and Eagle's worthless at close range," Red said, hopping into the passenger seat.

"Wait," Dex said, turning to look at Red, "what does any of that have to do with anything?" he asked in a dangerous tone.

"I would have had you distract the Blues," Red replied. Dex growled, and put the petal to the metal without warning... aside from the growl. Red had a special way of making him... _displeased_ shall we say.

"I told you!" they heard Tucker yell as they sped away. No-one paid it any mind, there were more important things to worry about at the moment.

"So, what was the distress signal?" Red asked, holding tight to the roll-bar of the speeding Warthog.

"Didn't say much beyond 'distress' and 'help,'" Dex ground out, still speeding away. "Didn't say who or where."

"It was on the Red Army open channel! That means it's a Red! Rick, did you tra..." Red said, only to cut himself off with a yell as Dex swung around a tree at breakneck .

"Don't know how far, but we have a direction. Now shut up and let me drive idiot!" the driver snarled. Red wisely decided to shut up. Generally, he could get a read on how ticked off Dex was by how he drove. Judging by the speed and hair-pin turns, Dex was _royally ticked_ and not to be trifled with. Red rather valued his continued well being.

/*/

Marley was waiting for the Reds, out of sight in the cloaked Phantom, when they came out of the cave system high on the cliff wall. "Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!" Marley chuckled.

"They're ba~ck!" she sang in evil glee, watching Dex beat his head against the dashboard of Red Team's stolen Warthog. Flowdie shook his head at her.

"You're really a mad, mad, woman, ya know that?" He just got laughed at. "Yeah. That's... kinda what I was expecting," Flowdie said with a sigh. He sat there, watching the Reds, for ten minutes. The only thing that happened... Dex screamed 'no.' "Yeah... forget this," Flowdie said, and dropped to the canyon floor. It was time for target practice.

/*/

half an hour after arriving back at Blood Gulch, Eagle asked "Hey... is he ever gonna stop screaming? He's been up there for almost an hour." Red growled and turned to Rick.

"See if you can shut him up. I don't care if he stays there, but he's screaming is getting on my nerves!" he ordered Red Team's resident geek. Rick nodded and headed out to where Dex was refusing to move.

"Hey Dex! Shut up and get down here! Help me check Blue Base!" he yelled, not really trying too hard to get the weapons expert to calm down.

"No! No! Noooooooooooooooooooooohoooooooooooohohohoooooooooooo!" Dex yelled back. Rick sighed.

"Yeah, he's not listening," he reported tonelessly, about ready to go start inventory on his own, just for something to do.

"Nooooo actually that time I was answering your question nooooooooooooo!" Dex yelled. The others all sighed while Dex continued to yell.

"Go up and get him, would ya?" Red asked Rick, rather irritated by the continuous yelling.

"Hope he doesn't pass out and fall off the cliff," Eagle commented. Red nearly canceled the order... then noticed Rick hadn't moved. "Hey, I have an idea," Eagle said, pulling out Betty. Red chuckled and Flowdie took a shot.

"What the?" they all asked, Flowdie popping out the spent shell.

"I was getting tired of all the yelling," he said, then fired again. A splatter of cyan paint appeared on the rock just shy of Dex. "Here," he said, tossing the other two sniper rifles and passing out paint rounds. "Target practice on me."

"Awesome," Rick said, lining up a shot and taking it, making Dex move out of the way with a yelp and a 'noooooo!' Three more shots, three more near dodges, and still more 'nooo!'s.

"Close," Red grunted, a little impressed with Rick's improvement with a sniper rifle.

"Thanks," Rick said, popping the empty shell out of his rifle and taking aim once more, "I've been practicing."

"NOOOOOO!" yelled... eh, you know. Another shot then...

"Hey guys, how's it going?" Marley asked, walking up.

"Pretty good. We're playing the best game since Grifball," Red said. "Grab a sniper and join in!"

"I'm not coming down!" Dex yelled. Eagle sent another paint round flying at him, and he dodged it just like all the others. "Hey Grif! Move back and forth like those ducks at the carnival!" Red yelled, taking another shot. Dex ducked making the shot go over his head. "No! Don't duck! _Act_ like a duck!" Red yelled as Marley took a shot. A shot that grazed his shoulder.

"Alright fine! I'm comin' down!" he yelled at them. Sarge fired and hit him in the back. "FOUL! I said I'm coming down!"

"Hyaha! Buzzer beater! Take that you stupid duck!" Red yelled, then got cuffed by Marley. "What..."

"Dex called foul, I concurred, and you got penalized. Welcome to the game," she told him flatly, Flowdie snickering behind her.

"Wait... if you two are here... and there was a distress sig..." Rick began, but Marley held up a hand and stopped him.

"Church actually did go to the past. He tried to save his captain..."

"So _that's_ what happened! I wondered," Flowdie said, rubbing his arm. Marley patted him in a consoling manner, then turned back to her rapt audience.

"He tried to save himself, but ended up making sure he got blown up by turning the friendly fire protocol off on the tank. Next, he tried to save Tex, but he's such a crap shot, he missed every time."

"Wait, hold up, did you just curse?" Dex asked, waving his hands in front of him. Marley shrugged.

"It was really the only way to describe Church's negative skill with a sniper rifle. Or, any gun for that matter," she said.

"Oh. Then, please, continue," Dex said, now motioning her on. She nodded and continued.

"So... that went on. And on. And on. And then he went to Sidewinder and... did basically the same thing, failing and getting sent back to the 'start point' over and over again. It was pretty crazy and I honestly don't have all the details. I _still_ don't know just how that one copy got yellow armor!" The Reds shared a look before giving her their attention again. "So anyway, after you went to Sidewinder with Tex and Tucker, Eagle, Church came out and talked to Sheila, telling her to wait, give it something like a thousand years, then send a distress signal. Obviously, she didn't wait a thousand years, as a thousand years haven't passed. She waited a year then got bored and started transmitting, using a recording from Battle Creek. Hence the high pitch of the voice," Marley finished.

"So... there's really no reason for us to be here?" Rick asked, quivering. Marley grinned under her helmet.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," she remarked, cracking her knuckles. Dex sighed, shaking his head.

"I hate my life," he moaned... right before he got sent flying three feet into the air and kicked twenty feet across the canyon.

"Sucks to be you!" Flowdie yelled, firing on the other Reds with wild abandon... and Freelancer Lock Down paint. Oh yes, it was a good day to be a Phantom in Blood Gulch.

/*/

The beating lasted for the rest of the day before they were allowed to rest. Marley was happily whistling as she cleaned her gear and Flowdie was practicing his first aid on the moaning Reds. "You're a brutal daughter of evil," Eagle said, wincing as even talking pulled at tender muscles.

"Look, we've got at _best_ two weeks before Church arrives back here. I'm gonna milk those two week for all I can. Which means teaching you," here Marley nudged Eagle with the toe of her boot, making him groan, "some close combat skills, even if I have to literally _beat_ them into you. Which means, the toughest warm-ups ever in the morning followed by three one on five close combat no-holds-bared rounds, followed by Flowdie taking the others aside for their usual training and me staying behind, one on one, with you. You will hate me, with a fiery passion. You will hurt, no matter what you do. You will, however, improve. I'm not sure by how much, but you _will_ improve." Eagle moaned once more as Marley concluded her speech.

"Just kill me now and spare me the agony!" he whimpered. The two Ex-Freelancers shared a look, then burst out laughing. Once they could breath without gasping, Marley and Flowdie hauled themselves to their feet, then turned to Eagle. "What?" he squeaked.

"Training starts now, Sniper Boy," Flowdie said, beginning to circle the youngest soldier in the canyon.

"FYI, this also doubles as team training for the rest of you lot. I'll be in charge today, then Red, then Rick, then Dex, then Flowdie, and repeat," Marley explained. "Flank right and engage!" Eagle yelled and ran away as fast as he could. Unfortunately for him, he was too weak and was caught by Flowdie, who tackled him to the ground, knocking the breath out of him and ending the round. "Aw come on! At least _try_ Frank!" Flowdie shook his head, giving Eagle more space. Hey, he had to give the kid _some_ kind of a handicap. That round ended much the same as the first, but the third round came with a surprise. Dex defected and singled out Red. The resulting fight was too much of a spectacle to pass up and the others all stopped fighting to watch. Dex had abandoned weapons for laying into the older soldier with his fists. Red was good, which meant the fight lasted a while, but by the end, the veteran was on the ground with Dex standing over him, breathing heavily. "That's for the past three years, Sarge," he informed the older man before he trudged off to find some water. Marley shook her head.

"Well that was a long time coming," she remarked dryly.

/*/

By the end of the day, Eagle was knocked out and the other Reds were walking bruises. "So, I heard you'd made a deal with Church. Everything he knows on Freelancer for information on you guys," Marley mentioned to Dex. He sighed.

"It was the only way to get him to stop asking questions and focus on the matter at hand. Namely, O'Malley," he told her.

"Yeah, speaking of... Rick, what did you do?" Marley asked, turning toward the IT guy.

"Um... I... may have... stabbed him with an A.I. capture unit?" Rick responded nervously. Marley sighed, cradling her head in her palm.

"And how well did that work?" she asked.

"Well, it captured O'Malley, but he broke free while I wasn't looking, stole Doc, and Lopez's head, and ran away from Tex," Rick answered. Marley sighed.

"I was afraid of that. Oh well, at least we know the tactic has merit. I'd have preferred you _not_ hurt Doc, but I understand why you did. There was no other option," she said. Rick sighed.

"Still... the scream he gave... " he said, looking away. Marley sighed, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"Forcefully extracting an A.I. like Omega is... taxing on the host. I'm not surprised he screamed bloody murder," she told him.

"Yeah, for some reason, that doesn't make me feel any better," Rick said before turning in for the night. Marley sighed again.

"I know, Rick. It never helps," she said to the still corridor before she too went to bed.

/*/

True to her word, Marley ran her men ragged. And Eagle _did_ improve over the next week. He now lasted twenty seconds fighting against all five of them as opposed to one second of running away. "You're right. I hate you," Eagle whispered as he lay, spread eagle, on the floor of Red Base. Marley shook her head.

"I'm sorry, truly I am, but you needed to learn, Eagle. And you _are_ improving. It's just... slow going," she said. Eagle passed out.

"Heh, nice going. Ya finally killed him," Dex remarked. He too had improved, though it wasn't as easy to see.

"Nah, he's fine. Just worn out," Marley said, covering the young man with a blanket. "Tomorrow's off boys. I suggest you take this opportunity to rest." This suggestion was greeted with great enthusiasm from the whole group. "Though, I want you to go Agent and helmetless tomorrow," Marley added.

"Why? I thought you said to fly under the radar?" Dex said. Marley chuckled.

"This base is just a few steps away from being decommissioned and declared obsolete. Freelancer isn't watching this canyon very closely at all," she said. "That's why I've been training you here. And now... I need you all to realize, fully, who your comrades are. That Red Team and Project Red are one and the same. Some of you," here Marley looked at Red, "seem to have a bit of trouble with that. So! This is my solution. Tell Eagle when he wakes up would you? Thanks." And with that, Marley vanished into the gloom.

/*/

Eagle stared. It was Orange... but he didn't have his helmet on. "Wow," he said, shaking his head, helmet still on. "I knew you were Grif, but still," he said. Dex chuckled, holding out a hand.

"Marley told us that as long as we wore our Agent armor, minus the helmet, we had today off," he said. Eagle allowed himself to be hauled up, then swiftly changed to his burgundy armor and took off his helmet. Dex blinked at Eagle's face, then chuckled. "I see what you mean. That is a bit odd." Eagle smirked.

"Eh, I think we'll get used to it," he said, making his way to his room to stow his helmet. When he arrived at the kitchen a few minutes later, he paused in the door way for a moment and took in the sight of Red and Maroon unmasked.

"Hey! Sleeping Beauty!" Rick called, smirking at the younger man. Eagle smiled back and went to get some breakfast.

"Don't call me that," the sniper said, then threw his fork to the table, bouncing handle first off Rick's forehead to land perfectly in Eagle's spot. "Ever," the young man said as he sat down and began to eat his eggs. Rick shared a look with Red.

"Right. Still a little tough to get used to that," the techie told his official CO.

"Like I told Dex when he got me up, I think we'll get used to it," Eagle said with a smirk, sipping his orange juice.

"Yeah. I totally know what you guys mean," Dex said, walking in with an open can of soda. He sat down, leaning back with a smirk.

"Alright, we're all here. Now what?" Red asked. Eagle rolled his eyes and gathered the two other plates from the table.

"Well, we could play a game. This is our one day off, I say we make the most of it," he said.

"Pit," Dex said, pulling a deck of cards out of his pocket. Rick smirked and matched him. Red sighed, but said,

"Deal me in."

/*/

Flowdie shook his head at Marley, who was watching the training videos of the past week. "You're going to strain your eyes, my love." She snorted.

"Please. I'm a doctor, I think I know what might happen. And how to treat it," she said, replaying a scene from the day before. Flowdie sighed, a soft, fond smile on his face as he leaned over her shoulder so he could reach the controls.

"Not the point, Love," he said, shutting off the monitor.

"HEY!" Marley yelled, gaping at the black screen, currently unable to understand why Flowdie would do that to her.

"The guys are playing Pit over at Red Base. Wanna join in?" Flowdie asked. Marley glared at him.

"No. I don't. I need to learn..." she said, but Flowdie put a finger over her lips. If he hadn't still been wearing his gauntlets, she would have bit him. As it was, she didn't fancy biting titanium plates. He smiled at her, glare and all.

"You'll learn nothing from these videos that you didn't learn in the fight. Not the way you're going about it," he said, nodding toward the black monitor. "Now, how about we take an hour or so to relax, and hang out with our boys when there _isn't_ a major catastrophe waiting to happen or rigorous training under way." Marley sighed, but stood and walked toward the door.

"Fine. You've convinced me. Let's go. Oh wait!" She spun around and stalked into the kitchen. A moment later she walked out with a bottle of soda and three bags of chips.

"Hey! You're gonna give them our entire stock?!" Flowdie squeaked, following after her. She laughed.

"If we're going to relax and hang out, we're going to need snacks!" she said, dancing out of his way as she made her way to Red Base.

/*/

O'Malley, meanwhile, was having quite a time staying ahead of Tex. But finally, _finally_ , he lost her. Something about a quest and treasure, and he was fairly sure Wyoming was there too... eh. No matter. It wasn't his problem. What was his problem, was the voice in his head. Doc. He was worse than ever after his brief moment of freedom. If O'Malley didn't know better, he'd say Doc's mind had been strengthened by the forceful separation rather than weakened, as was the norm. _'So. You're on the run. Like you've always been. Is this what you want to do with your life, O'Malley? Running and hiding and hating? Don't you want to be more? It's possible. I know it is. You just have to believe!'_

"Shut up," O'Malley growled. Doc's mental chuckle reverberated in his head, mocking him.

' _Ah~! Classic denial. You can't handle the truth. The truth that_ I'm _what_ you're _missing. The fact that I'm right, and you're holding on to past mistakes.'_

"Go to sleep!" O'Malley barked, and tried to force Doc even further into the shadows of his own mind. But the medic did not go quietly.

 _'I am Human, O'Malley. I cannot be ordered 'off line' or into storage. You're in_ my _head, not the other way around.'_ O'Malley growled at the words, but relaxed slightly as he felt Doc backing down. It was an odd relationship they shared, but as dysfunctional as it was, it somehow worked. Lopez sighed, or rather, his version of a sigh. Things had been rather odd with O'Malley for a while, like, weirder than usual. There were times he wished that crazy old man hadn't built him.

/*/

Marley's plan worked and after their day of rest, Project Red was closer than ever. Though, Red still had a bit of trouble being fully civil to Dex. Still, team relations were quite improved. Over the next week, Eagle improved a bit more. However, he had merely reached the level that Dex had been before Marley got a hold of him. And Marley was cackling. This Doth not Bode Well. And yes, the capital letters were warranted... and needed. Have you ever seen a cackling SPARTAN? From a secret shady experimental project _outside_ the SPARTAN program? Who has a variety of chemicals, drugs, and other liquids and the needed tools and knowledge to inject said liquids into you bloodstream? Yeah, it's about as scary as a Hunter. Run! "Hey Rick, how would you like to mess with the rest of your team?" she asked. He quirked an eyebrow. Okay... things were getting interesting.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked.

"Well... in the visions, you guys spent the whole two weeks mucking about, doing nothings as per usual. And some of the time was taken up by Sarge declaring you insane for seeing Sheila, the tank, and you got banished on the grounds of dementia. Angry, you went to Blue Base, painted yourself blue, and started fighting the Reds. About was well as you had the Blues before I showed up."

"Wait wait wait. You mean to tell me, in all that time, I hadn't gotten even a _little_ bit better?" Rick asked.

"Well, if you had, the others improved right along side you and made it so I couldn't really see the improvement. Plus, it... wasn't exactly life-like. For one thing, you all looked the same height. And for another... I was unprepared for how out of shape Dex was when we started," Marley said, looking away.

"Okay. I can live with that. So, what were you planning? For me to randomly run away and pretend to be a Blue?"

"Hum... you're right. Ah well, looks like Church is just going to have to miss out on being a Troll to all of Red Team. And he had some good lines to! And Sheila! Your dialog with her, trying to convince her the Blues were fighting Space Pirates instead of the Reds was awesome! 'My logical data analysis sector indicates that would be highly unlikely. And my bullshit meter agrees.' HA! Priceless! Even with the swear word!" Mary cackled. Rick sighed, shaking his head.

"Oh, to live in your world. It must be so fun there," he muttered. "So! Was the only reason you wanted me to run away and paint myself blue the entertainment value you'd get out of it? Because that's cheap. _Real_ cheap. Ma'am." Marley sighed and nodded.

"Right. Okay. Well... yeah. Wouldn't work all that well anyway. Right! Time to prepare to at least partially brief Church. Can't let him know about _Blood Gulch_ being part of Freelancer. Or him being Alpha. He'd flip by the way. So... time to get together and figure out what to tell him about Project Red," she said. Agreeing, everyone sat down together in Red Base's 'living room' and hashed out their story. If Marley was right, Church would be arriving in the next day or so.

"What do you say to him arriving to a Project Red style training session?" Eagle asked, though he looked a little apprehensive. The others couldn't blame him. The main focus as of late had been _his_ close combat skills.

"A fine idea! But... we don't want to scare him off, so a free-for-all spar is out. So... tomorrow will be target practice," Marley decided. Eagle let out a breath he'd been unconsciously holding and relaxed back in his seat.

/*/

And so it was that the next day, Church arrived to see all of Red Team firing at two figures that looked a lot like Freelancers. Only, they were wearing... Were those... two human targets strapped together to make a sandwich sign? "Need to anticipate where the enemy is going to be, Eagle! Bullet Lob! Come on!" the maroon one – Simmons? – told the... burgundy one?

"What the... ?" Church quietly questioned. He'd seen some weird stuff, but this was ridiculous! One of the Freelancers must have had super hearing, because it turned to him. Holding up a closed fist, this Freelancer stopped all firing. It then unfolded two fingers, and pointed _right at him!_ "Holy... !" Church began as he threw himself into the brush.

"Hey now, Church. I believe you were ready to uphold your end of our deal?" a vaguely familiar voice said.

"Wait... Dex?" Church asked, poking his head out of the foliage. The orange helmet with that odd gray visor nodded, and the man it belonged to easily lifted the crouching robot out of the bush.

"This, is Agent Black," Dex said, motioning to the Freelancer who had stopped the... training op? Church did his best to straighten himself out, and nodded to the Agent. "She's my... _our_... training officer, as well as the one we recognize as our direct superior. Tread lightly dude, she's one of the better Freelancers." If he could have, Church would have paled so fast and so much, it would worry just about anyone.

"Agent Black," he said, holding out a hand. Black chuckled and took his hand, giving it a firm shake.

"I understand Orange worked out a mutual disclosure deal with you?" she said and oh man she sounded like Tex!

"R-right. I... I don't know much. Just that all Freelancers were codenamed after an American state back on Earth. And they conducted experiments with A.I. and cybernetics. They're guns for hire with a lot of fancy tech, the best training, few morals, and will do just about anything if ordered... or paid," Church said. Black nodded.

"Yep. That's... basically it. In a nutshell at least. Our over arching mission was so secret, I don't think anyone but the Director knew what it really was. Ah, allow me to properly introduce myself. I am Agent Black of Project Red, formerly Agent Oregon of Project Freelancer. You may call me Marley," she said, voice now a bit more mellow, and a little higher. Church, even though he was a robot, felt himself relax as he shook her hand again.

"Church. Private Leonard L. Church," he said.

"I'm Agent Hippie of Project Red, formerly Agent Florida of Freelancer. Call me Flowdie," the other Freelancer said. Church felt like blinking.

"I didn't know..."

"I was given a... special... assignment. Officially, I died on that assignment. From an Aspirin overdose, of all things," Flowdie said, a hint of bitterness creeping into his voice. Church yelped, letting go of his hand and leaping away.

"Captain Flowers?!" Church yelled. Flowdie chuckled.

"Yeah. Marley... she's a special one. She warned me about you. Told me... how did you word it Marley? Did you mention needles or... ?" he said, turning a puzzled look toward Marley.

"I believe my exact words were, 'don't take any needles from Church, he doesn't know what he's doing,'" the woman replied, and Church could have sworn there was a hint of smugness in her voice. Crazy Freelancer chicks.

"Ah. Yes. Truly, it was an odd conversation. Still, it did save me from death so, yay! Now, Church, I don't want you to get too worked up. If you start feeling uncomfortable, let us know and we'll stop. As you know..." Flowdie began, only to stop as a titanium booted foot impacted on the relatively unarmored back of his knee and then another impacted the top of his helmet. "Ow," he said from the ground. Marley snorted at him.

"And that... is why your codename is Hippie!" she said.

"Yes! It's not a pistol whip or a bullet to the shoulder, but it still counts!" Dex cheered. Church stared at him. "What? Just because I'm an Agent, doesn't mean I'm immune to the crazy that coats this canyon. Or the crazy I was born with and then grew up surrounded by," the orange Agent defended with a shrug. Church shrugged.

"Eh, I guess you have a point," he said, then looked to Marley. "So... you guys gonna tell me about you now?" Marley nodded.

"Project is a bit of a strong word for our group. Team might be better, seeing as the entirety of Project Red is standing in front of you," she said.

"Wait. What about all your buddies in space?" Rick asked.

"Those are the Phantoms. Ex-Freelancers like me. They're the ones who went MIA before the MOI crash landed after Tex tried to steal the tortured Alpha A.I. out of Freelancer hands. Or rather, away from the Director, off of whom Alpha had been based," Marley answered. "Though, Flowdie has called Mich and Louie, formerly Michigan and Louisiana, to assist us on a... difficult... mission."

"Wait wait... how many Free..." Church began, but he was cut off in much the same manner as Flowdie.

"They are Freelancers no more. Much like Flowdie, they are officially dead. And if all goes well, I'll be adding another Phantom to my collection. A guy by the code name New York. Rick, Dex, I'm hoping you'll be able to save his life when Tex calls in her favor," Marley said. The aforementioned Agents nodded. "Now... where was I? Oh yes. Well, I decided to... _appropriate_... Freelancer assets and eventually use them against the Project. I did not anticipate... getting attached. Or... how well the Blood Gulch Reds would take to my training, how much they would be changed. Heck, Dex would be the lazy fat guy if I hadn't stepped in! That right there should tell you how big of an impression I've made on them," she went on, motioning to the impressive figure of Agent Orange.

"Wait wait wait... The one who scares me the most, outside of Tex and before you showed up, would have been the least threatening if you hadn't come around?" Church asked. Marley nodded.

"Physically, and if you never actually had to seriously fight him... or make him mad... then yeah. You just didn't see him like he was before because... well. He was a lazy bum and didn't want to leave the relative safety of the Base all that much. And I arrived a month after he did," she said.

"Wait! I think I remember that day," Rick said. "Wasn't that the day Sarge decided we'd blow up Blue Base, and Grif went off to look for C-4, and we totally failed because he couldn't find any explosives?"

"Wow. Your memory is almost as good as mine. Kudos," Marley said, confirming Rick's observation. "So... yeah. I took this Red Team, member by member, and started training them, taking them on missions, and preparing them to help me take down Freelancer. But now..." she shook her head. "I think of them as my family now."

"Aw~! We love you too, you sadistic mad woman!" Dex remarked, acting like he was getting all choked up. Marley turned to him, stared for a moment, then swept him legs out from under him, slammed his head into the ground, twisted his left arm up behind him, and then hauled him up and out of the ground by said arm. "OW!" Dex yelled, rubbing his shoulder.

"You asked for it," Flowdie said with a shrug. This caused Church to have a double take and Marley to laugh.

"Hehey! You're finally starting to sound more like a guy and less like a motivational poster! Good for you Flowdie!" Marley said, a grin evident in her voice.

"Wait... you did that to Captain Flowers?" Church asked, head whipping around so fast, it would have given a human whiplash.

"Church~. How many times have I told you? Call me Cappy, or Flowers. I don't want..." Flowdie began, only to have Marley slam an obviously broken and abused training rifle into his head, swinging like a baseball player. "Marley~! That hurt!" the ex-Freelancer whined from the ground. Marley huffed, swinging the largely abused rifle onto her shoulder.

"Should'a thougt'a that before you started on the whole 'authority smority' speech of yours. You _know_ how it irritates me when you talk like that!" she said. Church fell to his knees before her.

"Teach me your ways, O Great One!" he called, reaching up plaintively. Marley hummed, tapping the chin of her helmet in a contemplative manner.

"Okay. I'll train you too, since you asked. Burgundy! Got a student for ya!" she barked, turning toward the burgundy Agent.

"Sweet," Eagle said, then turned to Church. "You shall refer to me as 'Sir' or 'Agent.' We are not friends, we are not equals, you are now my punching bag. You will come to hate me... but you _will_ learn." Church did a robot swallow. What had he gotten himself into?

/*/

While training the other Reds with a game of three-on-two paintball, Marley chuckled as Church's scream echoed in the canyon. "OH COME ON! OWWW!"

"Wow. I never knew Eagle could be such a slave driver," Dex remarked, dodging a shot from Flowdie.

"Yeah, I have a feeling there's a lot you guys don't know about each other, even after all this time," Marley said. Red shrugged, trying and failing to shoot her.

"Eh, we get along alright."

"Ha! You've tried to kill me practically every other day! I'm honestly surprised I've managed to live this long," Dex shot back, clipping Flowdie on the leg. The older man responded by shooting him in the face, taking him out of the training session. Wiping the paint from his visor with the special compound Marley had developed for just such a thing, Dex made his way over to where Eagle was training Church. He leaned against a pillar of rock, out of sight, to watch. Eagle was brisk, succinct, and _very_ strict.

"No," he said, whacking Church's hand with a length of metal from a busted Warthog, "your hand goes _here_." Church repositioned himself and Eagle gave a short nod. "Remember, this weapon is your life. Lose it, you're dead. Miss, you're dead. Hit in the wrong spot, you're dead. Hit in the right spot, you live. Now. Hit dead center, or I hit you." Church nodded and fired.

"OWW!"

"Warned you. _Again!_ " Eagle said simply, crossing his arms and tapping his shoulder with his cudgel. Church grumbled, but took aim and fired, missed, and got whacked again. "Are you even _using_ your scope?" Eagle asked, incredulous.

"I don't know how!"

"Well. There's easily half your problem," Eagle said, then plopped down, crossing his legs, and pulled his own rifle, Betty, off his back to lay across his knees. "These, are the scope controls," he said, pointing to a myriad of buttons on the side of the weapon. He then proceeded to outline what each and every button did, as well as a basic guideline on when and how to use said functions. "Now. Break your rifle down, reassemble it, load a round, and fire. Take your time, but remember, if you're spotted before you can take the shot, you and your team are dead," Eagle said, standing and replacing his rifle, taking up his Whacking Stick as he did so. Church made a sound like swallowing, and did as he was instructed, though he got Whacked halfway through.

"OW! WHAT?!" he protested.

"You're doing it wrong. This part goes _there_ not there," Eagle said, correcting the Blue. "Start over."

"Aw _man!_ " Church whined, but did as he was told. Ghost with a robot body or not, Eagle's hits _hurt!_ Eagle Whacked him again. "What was that for?!"

"Make sound, you're spotted. You're spotted, you're dead. You're dead, your team has no cover. Your team has no cover, _they're_ dead," Eagle said, impassive. Church groaned, quietly, and set to work. Dex smirked and contacted Eagle over Project Red's channel.

"Slave driver," he said cheekily. "You're enjoying this aren't you?"

"Oh ho, yeah. Big time," Eagle said, and Dex could hear the grin in his comrade's voice. He chuckled.

"Think he can ever learn?"

"With time... maybe. If I can at least get him hitting the target, he'll be doing _alright_ ," Eagle replied. Dex chuckled again.

"I'm actually kind of surprised he's reacting to your hits. You remember what Marley told us of him, right?"

"Yeah. It is indeed odd but... eh. I'm not complaining. Now I understand why Marley has so much fun training us," Eagle responded, then Whacked Church for another mistake, though it was a relatively small one.

"A little hard on him, don't you think?"

"A small mistake can lead to bigger problems. I want him to _know_ his weapon. Ya know?" Dex hummed, nodding. He did indeed know. He wasn't called a weapons expert for nothing after all.

"Carry on. I need to get back to Marley's training," he told his comrade and got an acknowledgment light in response. Nodding, Dex was to put action to words and joined the free-for-all, gunning for Sarge.

/*/

That night, Eagle came back to Red Base whistling. "Someone's in a good mood," Dex remarked, amused. Eagle chuckled and pulled a root beer from the fridge.

"I got to spend the day whacking Church in the head with part of a busted Warthog. Who wouldn't be in a good mood from that?" he asked rhetorically. Dex chuckled as well and glanced over at the moaning form of Red.

"I can relate," he said with evil glee. Following his teammate's line of sight, Eagle winced.

"Man, I'm sure glad I'm not Red right now," he said, popping open his drink. "You're a beast, ya know that?" Dex shrugged, still smirking.

"So I've been told," he said easily. Eagle and Rick shared a look before turning to their dinner. The next three days were much the same until Tucker and Caboose returned to the canyon. Eagle noticed them coming and quickly vanished into the rocks, returning to Red Base and convincing his teammates to go Standard. Not long after, Dex got a call. He sighed, but accepted. "Agent Orange," he said.

"I'm calling in that favor. You willing to work with an extra Freelancer?" Tex said. Dex sighed again.

"Specialization?" he asked, hoping he wasn't going to be redundant.

"Infiltration and long range support, though he's handy in just about any fight," Tex responded. And was it his imagination, or did she sound... hopeful?

"Personality?" the Red probed, quirking an unseen eyebrow.

"Fairly laid back. May hold a grudge over a training accident that damaged one of his eyes." Dex nodded.

"Just you, me, and this lock guy?" he asked.

"York. And... yeah. I'm pretty sure the three of us can handle Wyoming," Tex responded. Dex quirked an eyebrow.

"Wyoming? Okay, now I'm _seriously_ considering this," he said.

"You can't turn it down. That's not how a favor works," Tex shot back and did she sound... worried? Dex chuckled, smirking.

"No need to get so worked up, Agent Texas. But really, you should have lead with 'I found Wyoming.' I would have said yes without even considering who else I'd be working with," he said. Tex let out a long breath. Then sent over the coordinates and ended the call. "So. Me, Tex, and York against Wyoming, huh?"

"Sounds like it," Marley confirmed.

"I request medical back up."

"Good, because I would have tagged along regardless." Dex chuckled and headed off to gather his gear. A few minutes later Flowdie was hiding in the caves while Marley and Dex were en-route to the coordinates Tex had sent to The Ghost.

/?/

A/N: Yes. I condensed most of Season 4 into one chapter. I did it _cause I can!_ And because I wanted to focus on Red Team and what they were doing, rather than Tucker and Caboose's pointless quest with Crunchbite. Up next, Out of Mind! Saving York! Beating Wyoming senseless! Interrogation! Inducting York into the Project? Eh, maybe later, like after the other two Blues come back to Blood Gulch.

A/N 2: Most of the edits for this one were spelling and when they arrived back at Blood Gulch. As well as when Dex left for the Wyoming mission. 8/25/16


	31. Episode 29

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB. That would be Rooster Teeth.

 **Episode 29:** The Impossible Fools

Agent Orange dropped out of The Phantom with closed eyes, almost meditative as he fell through the air. He could almost imagine music playing as he went, something about falling towaf the sky. Yeah, that would work. Five deep, slow breaths later, he adjusted his angle of decent to land feet first, falling forward into a roll before coming smoothly to his feet, SMG held comfortably in front of him. He took less than a second to take in the view, then chuckled with a smirk. "Nice to see you two didn't start the party without me," he remarked lightly, swaggering toward the two Freelancers. One was the familiar black form of Tex, while the other was tan with white accents. "Agent York, I presume?" Dex asked the stranger.

"Yeah... and you are?" York replied, not-too-obviously giving him a once over. Orange chuckled lightly and held out a hand.

"Agent Orange, weapons specialist and unofficial medic. A pleasure to meet you," he said. York took the proffered hand and gave it a firm shake. "So. Details. While it's true no plan survives contact with the enemy, some of a plan is better than no plan, and a plan made with details in mind is better than a blind plan."

"Wow. Where'd you find this guy?" York asked Tex, shrugging a shoulder at Orange.

"You wouldn't believe her if she told you," Orange said with a chuckle.

"Try me," York challenged. Orange shrugged.

"We met in Blood Gulch, got blown up together on Sidewinder, and raided a rundown base... I don't know where, though it was driving distance from Blood Gulch. Now! Back to the matter at hand please? Sooner we get this over and done, the sooner we can relax and I don't know about you two, but I'm looking forward to beating that obnoxious Cracker black and blue, stripping his armor, and hogtying him with hemp before handing him over to the _tender mercies_ of Agent Black," he said. Tex shuddered and York began to feel a little apprehensive of Agent Orange. If he was in league with Agent Black... he was _certainly_ a dangerous person. And then there was how... _gleeful_... he sounded when talking about beating Wyoming.

"See why I called him _now_ , York?" Tex asked smugly. Orange gasped theatrically, placing a heavy hand over his heart.

"Why Tex! I never knew you held me in such high regards! Really, you should tell a bruda when you see him like that!" he said, causing York to chuckle.

"Alright. _Now_ I'm glad you called him. I like your sense of humor, Orange. And I agree, details would be nice," the tan Freelancer said, turning to Tex.

"There hasn't been movement for a while. They've either bunkered down... or left," she said. A small, glowing, green figure appeared above York's shoulder. Orange twitched.

"Okay. Which one are you?" he asked the figure.

"I am the A.I. fragment Delta," the figure responded in a calm, soothing tone.

"Ah~! _That_ York. Carry on," Orange said, nodding and motioning the A.I. to continue.

"What do you mean _that_ York?" Delta asked. Orange waved his hand in front of his visor as though waving off a fly.

"Not important right now. You had something to say, Delta?" he said.

"Yes. If Omega is inside the building, we must enter to locate him. If he has already left, that building contains the only clues to his current location. In either scenario, we must-"

"Get inside. I take it that's why you're here?" Orange said, redirecting his gaze toward York.

"Yeah. That's why I'm here," York said, turning away bitterly. Orange sighed and laid a hand on the Freelancer's shoulder.

"Hey. I didn't mean it like that. I hear you're a good all-round kind of soldier, but your specialty is infiltration. Lock picking. Me? I'm great mid-to-close range, decent long range, and I _suck_ when it comes to computers and locks. She could have called in Maroon, who is _fantastic_ at close range, great at mid range, and really good with computers. He's pretty bad long range and honestly, he has _no_ experience with locks. We need you on this mission. The only reason _I'm_ here, is to be a tank with legs," he said. York stared at the other Agent, then sighed.

"Fine. Let's go."

"Okay then. Stick to the plan. We split, maintain visual, no radios, movement on fours. Sync?" Tex said.

"Pluming!" Orange said, though it was clear he'd synced his mission clock with Tex's. York chuckled.

"Synced," he said.

"Go!" Tex barked, shaking her head.

/*/

As they ran, Delta spoke to his Agent, informing him that Tex's vitals were 'well above normal.' "I'm sure she's just tense, D," York muttered as Tex ran past him. "Okay, I am too. And I'm not fighting something that's been in my heads for years," York said. Delta materialized beside York, running along with his agent.

"Agreed, but the anomaly is worth noting. Once we encounter the target her emotions may make her actions erratic," Delta said. York sighed.

"What can I tell ya? Just one of the things that makes us human, D." Delta, who had been left behind at some point, caught back up.

"Excellent point, York. I was not looking at it from a flawed perspective. I will try to do so in the future," the A.I. said.

"Well it sure would make these conversations easier. Thanks for coming down to my level, D," York remarked dryly.

"I am here to assist," Delta replied in his usual calm manner. Orange chuckled just as they met up.

"No vis," said Tex.

"No vis," copied York.

"No vis... and Delta? You're pretty cool. Glad you're on our side," Orange said, and York had a feeling he was smirking.

"Focus! There, that's the lock. Bust it and this teleporter will take us up top," Tex said, motioning toward a security interface on the bland concrete wall. Orange took up a guard position by the door while Tex watched York. He opened it up, ready to start work, when he stopped.

"Whoa whoa, you said an _encrypted_ lock. This is a _holographic_ lock," the infiltration specialist said.

" _Is there a difference?_ " Tex ground out. Orange snorted.

"I'm worse than a rookie when it comes to locks and even _I_ know there's a difference," he said.

"Hence the two names," York added.

"Look, can you open it or not?" Tex asked.

"Of course I can! It's just much harder. I just brought it up 'cause I wanted you to realize how kick-ass I am," York said before getting to work.

"I'm convinced. Get to work," Tex said, apparently not noticing he was, in fact, working. Orange, with his mechanically enhanced hearing, caught Delta and York's conversation.

"York, why are we doing this? Killing Omega will not repair the damage he did to your optic nerve," Delta told the Agent. Orange frowned slightly. York had a bad eye? From what he knew, that made his job _really_ difficult, especially with a holographic lock.

"I'm not doin' it to fix my eye, D. I'm doin' it because my eye is broken." Orange fought down a snort at that.

"I apologize, but that does not make sense to me."

"Omega and Allison were always the best," York began, and Orange perked up. Black was notoriously tight-lipped with information on the Freelancers. " _No-one_ could compete with them. Not me, not Wyoming, not _anybody_. Trying to beat them when I should have given up is how I got hurt in the first place." ' _Wait... how does that tie in here?_ ' wondered Orange, casting a quick look toward York.

"Oh. So it is pride. I was registering an emotion, but I incorrectly categorized it as 'stupidity'," remarked Delta, causing Orange to quickly stifle his snickers.

"Yeah. They're closely related," York said. Orange chuckled quietly. No wonder Marley had compared him to this guy. They had similar personalities alright, but different enough to get along.

/*/

Church groaned. Tucker was vomiting and moaning and... "Alright. That's it. What is all that noise?!" yelled Flowdie. Church groaned again. Caboose whimpered and hid behind Church.

"He scares me!" he 'whispered.' Flowdie sighed.

"Well, Church? What's making that..." he asked, but was cut off by loud retching noises.

"That had better have been in your bucket!" Church bellowed at the door to the base. Flowdie made a noise halfway between understanding and despair.

"Right. I'll take a look at him," he said, then entered the base, ignoring the conversation between Church and Caboose. Slowly, Flowdie made his way toward the source of the noise. He found Tucker laying in his bunk, a bucket by his head and a damp washcloth laying on the floor where it must have fallen when he rolled over to retch. She sighed and made her way over. "Hey there, Lavernius," he said gently. Tucker's bare head jerked up, surprise clear in his dark hazel eyes. "I'm Flowdie, and I'm here to at least _try_ to make you feel better," he said, slowly making his way toward him. Tucker moaned.

"How did you know my name?" he asked.

"I know a lot of things, Lavernius," Flowdie responded, still smiling.

"Call me Tucker." Flowdie frowned for a moment, then shrugged.

"Very well. Would you like me to help you out of your armor, Private Tucker?" he asked. It was a testament to how crummy he was feeling that Tucker didn't joke around, but simply nodded. Flowdie sighed and started with the arms. Ten minutes later, Tucker was in his under armor and Flowdie was placing a fresh cloth on his forehead. "Now, would you like to know why this is happening, Tucker?" At his patient's nod, Flowdie continued. "This is the result of not sleeping with one eye open around an unfamiliar alien." Tucker gave him a puzzled look, which swiftly turned to uncomprehending horror as the 'doctor' cackled. "Ever watch that movie _Alien_?" he asked. Tucker's eyes went wide before he looked to his abdomen. Flowdie's cackles grew louder.

"NOOOOOOOO!" Tucker yelled over the 'doctor's' mad cackles.

"Oh, yeah," he affirmed, smirking evilly under his helmet. Tucker glared.

"I hate you, so much right now," he growled. Flowdie finally managed to contain himself.

"Yeah. That's to be expected. You're gonna be hating just about everything for, oh, quite a while. Now, I have some meds that can help," he said, pulling out Advil and a big bar of chocolate. Tucker smiled weakly and swallowed the pills dry before biting into the chocolate and moaning in pleasure.

"Okay. Hate diminished," he said around a mid-sized piece of chocolate. Flowdie chuckled and put the pill bottle and a stack of chocolate bars on his bedside table before taking his bucket.

"Good to know. I'm going to leave these," he motioned to the pills and chocolate, "here for you and clean out your bucket. Then, I'm going to inform your teammates of what is going on and give Church a list of instructions. He already knows how to call me. Though, I might suggest calling Doc. This could be good training for him. And, of course, Church will have my instructions he can follow," he said. Tucker moaned.

"Don't call Doc!" he whimpered. Flowdie shook his head.

"He's a poor medic, I'll admit, but he makes a decent nurse and/or orderly. I prescribe rest and light foods along with chocolate," he said, then exited.

"Well? What's wrong with him?" asked Church.

"Ever watch _Alien_?" Flowdie asked. Church nodded. "Remember that scene when the baby alien busts out of the guy's chest?" Church nodded, then froze.

"You can't mean..." he began, fearful.

"Heh, should'a slept with one eye open," Flowdie said, completely unrepentant. Church groaned, placing his head in his hands.

"Great," he moaned.

"If you want someone to watch him and clean up after him, call Doc. He makes a decent nurse and this way, you can keep an eye on O'Malley," Flodwie said. Church sighed and Caboose entreated,

"Don't do it." Church did it anyway. Flowdie walked off chuckling. Things were about to both slow down... and pick up. Soon, he and Marley would have Eagle all to themselves. Marley'd hack into 'Command' to make sure he was sent to an empty base, just to make sure.

/*/

Meanwhile, at an Evil Lair somewhere, a phone was ringing. "For the love of evil, someone get the phone!" bellowed O'Malley.

"Why don't you get it?" asked Spanish!Lopez. O'Malley snarled.

"You fool! Can't you see I'm busy with an evil plot? What do I pay you for?"

"To clean up after all your failed plots," Spanish!Lopez replied dryly.

"Oh shut up you fool. You don't even have a body," O'Malley snapped.

"Yes. Because of one of your failed plots," Spanish!Lopez pointed out.

"Why all this bickering? Can't we all just get along?" Doc tried, though he made sure to make it over dramatic.

"And answer the darn phone!" added O'Malley.

"Why do we have a million doomsday devices and no answering machine?" asked Spanish!Lopez.

"I find you far too sarcastic for just a head," muttered O'Malley as he answered the phone.

/*/

The teleporter was up and Tex was fairly bouncing. Orange clapped a hand on York's shoulder. "Good work Agent," he whispered as Tex barked,

"Okay, I'll take the lead. Give me fifteen seconds then follow, sync?"

"Sync," Orange and York said together. After Tex had entered the teleporter, York spoke to Delta. "I need you to stay tight D, watch my bad side."

"Of course, watching left. Execute in, three, two, one. Execute. Good luck," the green A.I. responded.

"Thanks," said York, and Orange could tell he meant it. Both passed through and joined up with Tex. "Tex, sitrep!" York barked, joining her behind cover as he entered into the chaos of battle.

"Five of them at three six and three O!" Tex relied.

"Three Alpha mark. I do believe I've received the next part of the sentence," Delta informed them. Tex popped up and shot one.

"Dead one at three. One down, cover my thirteen!" she said, moving in.

"Problem, beta and small explosives needed," Delta said, fulfilling his order to watch York's left. Orange chuckled and tossed a grenade into the biggest hot spot. "Problem neutralized. Recalculating to factor Orange."

"Ace?" asked York, still firing at anything red, blue, or white that moved.

"Y, stop thinking! Go low!" Tex barked. Orange stopped following until he heard York say he needed a mark. Past that, it was pure slaughter. That was when Tex's gun jammed and she shouted for cover, Wyoming appearing. Orange tried his best to provide cover, but York was hit. Orange cursed and tossed Tex two more guns.

"Cover me! I'm going for York," he barked. Not waiting for confirmation, Orange dashed to the downed Agent, who had luckily fallen behind a large crate. "York! Are you okay?" Orange asked, already pulling out his med kit.

"It's that damn left side," York moaned.

"Delta, info," Orange ordered, rolling York onto his back.

"York has sustained two wounds to his upper-left chest. Recommend evac stat," Delta relied. Orange nodded.

"Seeing that," he said while York moaned,

"Just, need a minute. Heahh." Orange pursed his lips.

"Administering field stint, and analgesic," Delta said. Orange felt his mouth relax a little.

"Good."

"Wait, Orange, don't... don't let 'im," York tried to protest.

"York is now unconscious. Alarm: target Alpha has reloaded," Delta informed.

"Not relevant. Tex has him, and two of my guns. How bad is it, Delta?"

"York will..." Orange growled, causing the A.I. to quite down.

"How long does he have?" Orange asked. Delta flickered.

"Ten minutes." Orange grinned and treated the wound as best he could before tagging the Agent.

"More than enough time. Oregon is coming for medical evac. Keep him with us, D," he told the A.I before cloaking. Time to hunt. Delta, had he been human, would have blinked at this.

"Agent Oregon is dead," he muttered in confusion. That was when he heard wry chuckles and noticed a signature bleeding into being behind his downed Agent.

"Rumors of my demise were greatly exaggerated, D," Black said as she knelt by York. "These wounds are no-where near as bad as the visions made them out to be. D, I do believe you were attempting subterfuge. Nice. Makes my job a bit easier. York's beacon has already been activated, a recovery Agent should be en route. No telling how long before he gets here, but we'll all be gone by then, I can assure you of that. Now, let's see... can you make a copy of yourself?"

"Negative, Agent Oregon."

"Right. Plan B," Black grumbled, already taking York's armor off. Before long, she had a half-frozen cadaver dressed in York's Freelancer armor and a 'dumb' A.I. designed to look and sound like Delta loaded into the armor. "Okay. Now. Delta, your main chip was implanted into York, right?" she asked, just for clarification. Delta's hologram nodded in confirmation. "Wonderful. Off-line in the implant. Once I get York's new armor on him, you can load yourself into that. I promise you'll have fun with it, lots of nice new gadgets that don't need a whole lot of power to run. I've been using them without A.I. after all," Black said, already dragging York's unconscious body onto The Phantom.

/*/

Tex was running out of options. Wyoming had her pinned down. That was when Orange came barreling out of no-where, the tell-tale shimmer of active camo the only warning of his approach, and slammed his shoulder into Wyoming's chest. Orange pulled out a magnum and put two slugs in each shoulder and one in each leg, in the big muscle of the calf. "No-one kills my comrades... and gets away with it," the large soldier growled before knocking Wyoming out and ripping off his helmet. "Here, I'm sure you can get what you need off of that," Orange said, still snarling. Tex took the helmet with a heavy heart. She had never wanted York dead. How would she ever tell Carolina if they ever met? Shaking her head, she quickly got the information she needed off Wyoming's helmet logs. She dropped it... only for Orange to pick it up.

"What are you..." began Tex, before she saw Orange taking out the A.I chip.

"Finder's keepers... even if it is that obnoxious Gary," the other Agent said before he plugged the chip into his helmet. Tex sighed, but turned to leave.

"Thanks for the help. I know where O'Malley is now," she said.

"Need a lift?" Orange asked. Tex shook her head.

"No. I need some time. Alone," she said. Orange nodded.

"Understood. I'll... take care of York," he said, admirably faking sorrow, then made his way back to where he'd left the wounded Agent. He found the armor, filled out by a dead soldier, and grinned before he went back to where the knocked out Wyoming laid, checking to make sure Tex was already gone. Coast clear, he sauntered over to the man and stripped him of his armor before he hopped off the base... and landed on The Phantom. He swiftly entered and found Marley working on York. Casting a salute her way he knelt down and dug out the hemp rope. Item secured, he returned to Wyoming and swiftly bound him with the itchy material. Wyoming woke as the last knot was tied.

"Ugh... what hit me?" he asked. Orange chuckled darkly, manually cocking his magnum.

"Me," he said, lazily aiming the weapon at the downed and bound Freelancer. The Brit's face paled as he took in the imposing figure, along with the fact that he was without both his armor and his A.I.

"What are you going to do?" he asked. Orange chuckled.

"What am I going to do? Well... that depends entirely... upon you," he revealed, leaning forward. Wyoming edged back, fear creeping into his eyes. "See, your answers to my questions are going to determine when you die; now or later. Oh and, if you lie, Gary will know. He is the A.I. fragment of deceit after all." Wyoming's eyes went wide.

"How do you know that?!" he asked, an edge of hysteria creeping into his voice. Orange chuckled once more and sat back.

"Easy. He told me. Now, why are you working with Omega?"

/*/

The questioning lasted an hour, with the end result being that Orange declared Wyoming's mind broken beyond Project Red's ability to heal. He took him to Marley, who had finished with York, before leaving to collect the Freelancer's armor. "So, Orange tells me you're messed up in the head. Though, I always remembered you as an odd one. Gamma being in your head only exacerbated your naturally cut throat personality," she told the man. Wyoming looked at her curiously, dark brown eyes scanning her appearance for familiar aspects, outside the fact she was wearing armor.

"Do I know you?" he asked. She scoffed.

"Not likely. I wasn't stationed on the Mother of Invention." Wyoming's eyes went wide.

"You were on the Valiant?" he asked. Marley nodded and noticed Wyoming's eyes trailing over to the prone and bloody form of York. "A doctor?" he muttered. Marley chuckled.

"Why else would Orange have brought you to me?" she asked him, crouching. "Now... what to do with you. Orange already informed me of O'Malley's plans, and your part in them. I must admit, I'm still curious how you could go along with this. O'Malley's a mad man, er... A.I. And he is a fragment of an A.I based off a man driven mad with grief. Why do you think Epsilon got his agent classified Article 12 when he deconstructed inside his head?" Wyoming's face was showing horror and a little bit of sorrow as what Marley was saying sunk in.

"Epsilon was Grief," he said, believing he'd cracked the case, only to feel more horror when Marley shook her head and said,

"Close, but the answer's Memory. All the Alpha's memories, compressed into a single fragment of an A.I., and then suddenly decompressed into a human mind. That's what Epsilon's agent experienced. And that's why said Agent is now plotting revenge. You remember _his_ revenge plots, right?"

"Freelancer's doomed. It's only a matter of time," Wyoming said in defeat. Marley nodded.

"Yes. It is. Now that that's out of the way... O'Malley. Do you really want what is essentially the entirety of a man's rage, anger, and frustration in control of even a portion of the Covenant's forces?" Orange asked, entering the ship with Wyoming's armor.

"You make a compelling argument... but so does Omega," the Brit said. Orange growled, dropping the armor in his arms and taking a menacing step forward.

"Stand down, Agent Orange," Marley declared, causing the Agent to freeze, but that didn't stop him from growling at the downed Agent.

"He's a threat. We should eliminate him," Orange declared, even voice at odds with his menacing growl. Marley sighed, her head drooping slightly.

"There's already so much death in this universe. Why should we add to it?" she asked plaintively. Orange scoffed.

"Don't think I haven't seen you mow down alien hordes with wild abandon. And laughing. Besides, this man... no. This Freelancer was all too willing to fight his comrades. Look at what he did to Tex, to York!" he said, motioning to the comatose agent on the floor of the Phantom. "You know as well as I that he didn't think twice about attacking when they tried for the Alpha. In fact, I bet you were cheering in your head when you saw York bean him with a locker _and_ do it with a knock knock joke. You've grumbled about this guy so many times, I've lost count! And lets not forget that when O'Malley took out a hit on my favorite enemy, he jumped on it. And shot a guy in the head because he 'didn't have time to torture him.' I know he had Gary in his head at the time but... I can't help thinking he was always like that."

"How did you know about the attack? Or about when O'Malley hired me to take out your little friend?" Wyoming asked. Orange shot him a glare.

"Shut up, Cracker. This is between me and Black," he spat, then turned back to Marley. "Well?" Marley sighed.

"I know, Orange. And he's always been a pest. I remember when he was on the Valiant. True, it wasn't for very long, but I can see why he was paired with Gamma. Ever read Harry Potter?" she said. Orange nodded. "He would have been in Slytherin. A rather unpleasant Slytherin at that. So here's my quandary... is he a Riddle or a Snape?" Orange shook his head.

"I'd say he's a Snape without an Evans," he said. Marley let out a heavy sigh.

"Reginald... would you be willing to turn against O'Malley?" she asked.

"What's in it for me?"

"Told you. Snape without Evans," Orange remarked with a sneer. Marley snapped him a look before returning to Wyoming.

"You get to live," she told him evenly. He swallowed heavily, eyes not leaving the threat to his life.

"I'll turn," he said. Orange scoffed.

"I guess it's true then. There is no honor among mercenaries," he remarked before striding to the cockpit. Marley shook her head at the man before turning back to Wyoming.

"Since you've agreed not to help O'Malley, I'll give you a little information." Wyoming gave her his undivided attention. "I'm the one who gave Florida the nick-name Flowdie," Marley revealed.

"I thought she was the first to die?" Wyoming said, puzzled beyond belief. Marley chuckled.

"I was the first one chosen for the Project... and the first to realize where it was headed. I was a coward and left before it could take me down with it. I swore to save those Freelancers who could be saved, the ones who didn't lose their humanity to the Project. I have been met with... limited success." Wyoming shook his head.

"You know... Florida used to talk about you. A lot, actually," he said. "I always thought you were too weak, to soft. Looks like I was wrong." The ship rumbled and began to pull away from the base. Marley secured York, leaving a bound Wyoming to flop about as The Phantom made its way back to The Ghost. "Quite wrong." Snickers came from the cockpit and Marley could just imagine the smug smirk on Dex's face. She sighed. This was going to be a long flight.

/*/

Once they reached The Ghost, Orange helped Marley move York to the med bay, leaving Wyoming in The Phantom. "Thank you, Dex. I couldn't have done this without you," Marley told the Hawaiian. Dex chuckled.

"Sure ya could~! It just would have been harder to fake Yorkie boy's death," he said, then grew serious. "But we shouldn't celebrate until he wakes up. He's not out of the woods yet, even I can tell." Marley nodded, looking down at the sleeping York.

"I'm just glad we could save him. He's a good man just... drew the short stick. Like a lot of us," she said, gently taking his hand. Dex sighed again.

"I know. Trust me, I know. Now, let's get back to Blood Gulch. Something tells me the fireworks are about to begin. Big time," he said. Marley nodded.

"Yes... and no. It's... complicated. Though, I'd say you have at least another month of crazy, hectic, action," she said. Dex shook his head and strapped himself in.

"Let's get this over with," he muttered. Marley snickered. Ah~! She loved doing that to people~!

/*/

When The Phantom arrived back in blood Gulch airspace, it was to see another Pelican coming in. Marley skillfully avoided the other craft, though Dex could hear her muttering about stupid inexperienced pilots. "Uh... Marley?" he asked.

"Shut up. It's landing in the canyon," she bite back. He grumbled, but sat back. Marely was thankful he didn't see it land on Eagle.

/*/

Over at Blue Base, Doc was having to face a rather irritated Church. Not a very pleasant experience. "Hey Doc, what the heck's going on in there?" Church asked as odd, thumping sounds emanated from deeper inside the base.

"Oh. Church. Um, everything's fine. The patient is just resting," Doc said. A particularly loud _thump_ echoed just as Doc finished speaking, causing him to wince behind his visor.

"Doesn't sound like he's resting," Church drawled, disbelieving. Doc chuckled, glad to note that only a hint of his nervousness leaked through into the sound.

"That's not Tucker. That's our new arrival," Doc said, just as the baby let out a loud 'blarrrrg.' "He's got a lot of energy since his first feeding." Doc could see Church give a shudder of disgust.

"Tucker... _fed_... the baby? Gross," the soldier said. Secretly, Doc agreed, but he had to make the best of this situation.

"Actually, Caboose was kind enough to donate some blood. You know what they say, it takes a village," the medic said. ' _Stay positive. Stay positive. No-body likes an emo brooder. Except crazy fan girls, and you don't want those. Stay. Positive._ '

"How'd you get him to agree to that?" asked Church, like this was an incredible achievement.

"It's amazing what Caboose will do if you promise him a cookie and a glass of orange juice," Doc told the shocked Church over the sounds of things breaking and the occasional 'blarg blarg honk'.

"He hates needles," Church told Doc, who shrugged as Caboose came staggering around the corner behind him.

"No needles; it turns out if you just expose some bare skin, the little guy just digs right in! It's like a _miracle_ to see nature at work."

"I feel dizzy!" Caboose announced, looking around like he was hallucinating.

"Um... is he gonna be okay?" Church asked, watching the other soldier waver on unsteady legs.

"Tucker's kid drank half a gallon in one go. I'n't that cool? I think he's gonna be a linebacker! Or a vampire. _Or a vampire linebacker!_ That'd be crazy," Doc said, laughing a little at the absurdity of the situation. ' _Laugh at the crazy, or you'll be pulled in_.' Caboose moaned again, still looking about randomly. "Anyway, blood _is_ pretty important, so Caboose is bound to have some side effects like dizziness, or nausea, or sensitivity to light..." Doc went on, just before Caboose said,

"I think I'm going to stop standing up now," and finally succumbed to his blood loss, crumpling into a pile of limbs and blue armor.

"Or passing out," Doc added, wincing as he heard the soldier collapse behind him. That sounded like it hurt.

"Church, if I die, I want you to have my orange juice," Caboose said from his crumpled heap. In the background, it sounded like the 'baby' wasn't too happy with something, judging from the rapid 'blargblargblarg's coming from deeper in the base.

"Ugh! How can Tucker sleep with all that racket?!" Church asked.

"Sleeping?" Doc asked, a hint of near hysteric laughter tinging his voice. "He's not sleeping... He's in a coma." Church growled and Doc was rather glad he had full control of his body again... even if it meant O'Malley was somewhere else. At least the A.I. couldn't say something to make Church even _more_ irritated.

"Alright, that's it. Get out of the way Doc. I'll take care o' this," Church said, bringing his gun back up. Doc noted that the soldier's grip on said weapon had tightened slightly. While he was a little uncomfortable with the cross-species thing, Doc couldn't let Church do what it looked like he was planning.

"I can't feel my torso," Caboose informed them. Doc gave a soft sigh of relief. The idiot lived to derp another day! Huzza!

"I don't think so," Doc said to Church, deciding to ignore Caboose for the moment. "A newborn is _really susceptible_ to infection, and disease. And Cuddling~! I only wanna expose it to as few people as possible.

"Doc, don't worry. I'm not gonna give it a cold. I'm just gonna go in there, step on it's neck, and shoot it in the head. Because that's how I roll," Church said.

/*/

Marley dropped Dex off by the Pelican, from which banging could be heard, and then headed toward Blue base. "Well. It certainly seems I've missed _something_. Anyone care to fill me in?" the weapons expert asked, nodding toward the ship.

"Uh... a ship fell out of the sky and landed on Eagle, sir," Rick replied.

"Injuries?" Dex inquired.

"Outside of Eagle being under it when the ship crashed? No." Dex nodded.

"Good. Now let's see if the pilot survived," Dex remarked.

"What will we do about Eagle? There's no way he survived having this ship land on him. Poor Eagle, I'll miss him like an annoying cousin," Rick lamented. Dex scoffed.

"Please. Of course he's alive! Didn't Marley tell you about the cave system under Blood Gulch? There's a chance he just fell down there. And the inertial dampeners along with the experimental jet pack Marley gave him should have been enough to slow his decent and cushion his landing enough for him to survive if it were more than a hundred foot drop. Lower than that, and there's no way he'd get taken out!" he said.

"Uh, Dex? What about the ship?" Rick asked. Dex shook his head.

"Please. Not even getting hit in the head with a falling ship could get rid of Eagle. Remember that energy shield unit Marly outfitted us with? That would have protected him enough to make a crater, which would have burst through the roof of the caves, allowing Eagle to fall though. OH! And that's _another_ thing that would make sure he survived the fall," he said, crossing his arms. As Dex finished talking, a tapping sound started to come from the ship. All three froze for a moment, then Orange took charge and leveled a finger at Rick. "Get that door open! If the pilot survived, I've got some questions that he can provide," he said. Rick nodded and quickly opened the door, Dex close behind.

"Hey!" a yellow armored soldier said perkily. Dex froze.

"I know that voice," he breathed. Louder he asked, "Kai?"

/*/

Doc was shocked at Church's casual disregard for life. "Well now you're _definitely_ not coming in. And I think we're gonna send back your shower gift too," he remarked. ' _Huh. Never thought I'd be thankful for my sarcastic side,_ ' the medic thought. Truly, if it hadn't been for that part of him, he was fairly sure he'd bee freaking out and yelling at Church about the importance of life in all its forms. Disregarding his own troubled past of course.

"I'm still laying here. Why won't anyone help me?" Caboose asked from the floor. Again, he was ignored in favor of the gun toting sociopath with anger issues. Not a good combination.

"I tell you what, I promise to wash my hands before I destroy the abomination of nature, okay?" Church said. Doc shook his head, unwilling to give ground.

"Sorry."

"Doc, seriously, you can't keep me from going inside my own base," Church said. Well, at least he was trying to be civil. Still wasn't gonna work though.

"Church, don't make me pull rank on you," Doc said, making sure he was planted as firmly in Church's way as possible. Church, however, was flabbergasted at Doc's declaration.

"Rh-rank? What the fudge... I outrank... you don't outrank me! I'm a Captain!" Church stammered.

"Noo~. You're a Private with a _dead_ Captain. The last time I checked, that makes you a Private. With a dead Captain," Doc said sensibly. Caboose decided to pipe up once more.

"My body... is trying... to die," he said.

"W-okay fine, then we're both Privates. You don't outrank me," Church said.

"No, I'm Medical _Super-Private, First Class,_ " Doc corrected. This just served to make Church even more confused, which made him frustrated. Which was not something nice.

"That's not a real rank," Church said.

"Yes it is," Doc defended.

"Since when?" Church asked.

"Uh, since I sent them a letter every day for four years requesting that promotion," Doc replied while the baby let out a loud 'harrrgh!'

"They promoted you for _**that**_ **!?** _You haven't even used your weapon!_ " Church shouted.

"Leadership isn't about firing bullets and stabbing people, Church. It's about being able to tell others to fire bullets and stab people," Doc told him.

"If I've been bitten, dose that mean I'm going to turn into one of them?" Caboose asked.

"Oh shut up Caboose," Church said irritably.

"Blaaaaa..." Caboose began, causing Church to again snap at him to shut up. Caboose finished his long, drawn out, Blarg. "Oh no, don't let me turn," the rookie pleaded. And that was when an 'earth' shaking _CRASH!_ rattled the base.

"The heck was that!?" Church asked.

"I didn't feel anything," Caboose muttered, clearly out of it... or... more... out of it... man Blue Team was weird.

"I'll be right back," Church told Doc and the not-quite-comatose Caboose, "don't feed any more of our soldiers to the Alien," he added before running off.

"Okay, but I can't make any promises," Doc called after him.

"Don't leave me with the horrible doctor," Caboose called plaintively.

"Oh shut up Caboose," Doc said waspishly to the prone soldier.

"Now he's cursing at me," Caboose... whimpered? Honestly, it's hard to tell with that guy. While Church ran off to investigate the crash, Doc took the alien baby out for a walk. Of course, this left the two out of commission Blues open for Marley to swoop in and help. She went to Caboose first. After testing to find his blood type, she was relieved to find that it was a match for Dex's. From there is was a relatively simple matter for her to give him a blood transfusion. Caboose sorted out, mostly, she headed further inside to check on Tucker. When she found him, she nearly cursed.

"Next time Doc's unaccounted for, I'm hunting him down and teaching him a few things," she growled, taking in the clumsy stitches across Tucker's abdomen. "He didn't even preform a C-Section!" she declared in horrified disgust. Finally she shook herself and set up her tools. Obviously, she was going to have to do some damage control. First, she washed the affected area with disinfectant before took out the stitches, which had been too loose in places and far too tight in others. Then, she wiped the edges of the wound with a numbing agent. That done, she selected the proper thread and needle to apply proper sutures. Finally, she wrapped his torso with fresh bandages and gave him an anti-biotic shot to stave off any infection. When she was back on The Phantom, she decided to go ahead and test Tucker's blood type. It was a match for her own. She sighed, but filed the information away for future reference. With how often these guys got into scrapes, it'd be handy knowing where to get donor blood.

/?/

A/N: Oh, what I could say here... but I won't. Instead I'll say... CLIFFHANGER! Though really, it's not as if you don't know what's coming. The Major AU train is still picking up passengers and has yet to leave the station. The Minor AU train left the station in the first Episode. ACK! I boarded the Rambling Train I was hoping to avoid! Leave a review down below telling me the good, the bad, and the 'what?' Tchuss!

A/N 2: So... yeah. I adjusted when Dex and Marley returned, what happened after the Wyoming Mission, and gave Caboose and Tucker medical attention. Because Doc doesn't count. 8/25/16


	32. Episode 30

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB. I'm just playing in Rooster Teeth's sandbox and messing up their timeline. Ya know, the usual FanFiction fare.

 **Episode 30:** A Family Matter

Kai was excited. She was headed to her first post! And then, she was there. Looking out the window, Kai saw two guys staring at her ship. Walking toward the big bay door, she began knocking on the wall, though she didn't get an answering knock. Instead, the door opened to reveal the two guys she'd seen out the window, framed in the door. "Hey!" she called happily. Maybe they were her new comrades! One seemed to freeze for a moment. He said something she couldn't quite make out before he said,

"Kai?" Was that her brother's voice? It sounded kinda like him, but there was something off about it, something she couldn't place.

"That'd be my name!" she said, perkily. He didn't look much like her brother, she didn't remember him being that tall, but if it _was_ her brother, all the better. She'd missed him.

"What are you doing here, Kai?! The army is no place for you!" the guy declared, the other turning to him ever-so-slightly. Kai bristled. No-one told her what she could and couldn't do!

"Yeah?! Well you can't stop me! You're not my dad!" Kai shouted back, irritated. She was starting to seriously consider the possibility of this soldier actually being her brother, as unlikely as it was. What were the odds of her getting the same post as Dexter?

"And thank heavens for that!" the guy, who sounded a lot like her brother when he actually got mad enough to shout, yelled. "I may have been named after him, but I will _never_ be my father!" Kai gasped. So she hadn't been wrong. It was her brother's typical response, but... she had to be sure.

"Dex?" she asked. The other guy shook his head.

"Please don't tell me she's your sister," he moaned.

"Sorry~! But she is," Dex answered with a sigh.

"Well... snap. I suppose we'll just need to take her back to Red Base," the still unnamed Other Guy said.

"Red? I was sent here by the Blue guys!" Kai exclaimed. This time, both stilled, like their armor locked up.

"Rick... can you hack into Command's database and take her off the Blue roster? Transfer her to Red Team?" Dex asked. The other guy, Rick, shook his head. "Right," Dex said with a nod, then pointed to her. "You're going back and quitting. That, or I'm taking your armor and destroying it before sending you back home," he declared. Kai gaped at him.

"You can't do that!" she protested. Dex laughed.

"Oh yes I can!" he denied. "This is a dangerous place, Kai. I just want what's best for you, little sis." Kai sighed.

"Dex..." she began, but they were interrupted by Church, even if Kai didn't know that was who it was.

/*/

While Rick and Dex checked out the ship, Red stayed outside and on the look out for Blues. Undoubtedly they had been alerted of the ship's arrival by the tremendous crash. Sure enough, three minutes later, Church ran up. "What the fudge are you guys doing out here, breaking the canyon?" he asked.

"Fudge off Blue. This here ship crashed on one of our guys. Rick and Dex are interrogatin' the pilot," Red told him, arms crossed in a clear signal for the other man to back off.

"Where'd it come from?" Church asked, eying the spacecraft and completely ignoring Red's threatening posture.

"It's a spaceship. It came from space," drawled Dex, striding down the open door and sounding rather irritated with the world in general. "Oh and, I already called both dibs _and_ shotgun. This is _my_ ship. No take backs," he declared, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall of the ship.

"What?" asked Church, mentally bemoaning his loss. Come on, it was a _pelican class drop ship!_ Wouldn't you like to say you had one of those parked behind your house?

"Yeah. And we're still trying to figure things out with the pilot. So... why don't you go check on your little _Alien_ victim?" Dex added. Church grumbled, but left... along with Shelia.

"Now what was with the yell'n and laghin'?" Red asked Dex, turning to confront the weapons expert.

"Well, ya see..." Dex trailed off. Red barely managed to refrain from helmet palming. Yeah... this was going to be interesting.

/*/

Doc was staring at Tucker's 'baby', lost in thought, when Church ran up to him. "Hey Doc, we've got problems man. I need to call Command," he said. Doc barely heard him, still staring at the baby. He was wondering... what traits had the child inherited from his human parent? Did all of his race procreate this way? Would the child be able to learn human speech, or would it only speak in blargs, honks, and harghs? "Hello? Earth to Doc. I mean, this place, to Doc," Church tried again. Doc shook himself from his thoughts and turned to Church.

"Don't you want to say hello to our new friend?" he asked, looking back down toward the child.

"What?" Church asked, following Doc's gaze. A very small, teal alien looked back up at him and 'honk'ed curiously. "I don't... I c-I can't, I can't I don't, this is..." the de-facto leader of Blue Team stammered, looking at the little creature.

"Take your time. This is a big moment," Doc said bracingly.

"Blarg," said the little... Tucker? Tucker was the cyan soldier's family name, right? So this would be a Tucker as well. Hum... Tucker Jr.? Eh, it'd have to work until Tucker Sr. could come up with a better name.

"I can't deal with this right now," Church said. ' _Oh. He regained control of his speech,_ ' Doc noted.

"Hnnnk!" Tucker Jr... noised... in... was it reproach? Eh, it was hard to tell.

"Shut up, you're disgusting," Church told the innocent child before looking at Doc. "Doc, what is Vic's number?"

"What for?" Doc asked.

"For reinforcements. Wait, unless, you've had like, specialized combat training in the last ten minutes," Church responded in his usual tone, which was equally sarcastic, rude, and irritated.

"Uh, nope," Doc said, being immune to said tone. Perhaps O'Malley _had_ done something for him after all, desensitizing him to this kind of thing.

"Then yeah, reinforcements," Church said decisively.

"Well, I did just change a dirty diaper..." Doc remarked, mentally shivering at the memory. It wasn't combat, but perhaps it could be considered mental training?

"That doesn't count," Church told him firmly.

"I don't know," Doc said with a chuckle that to him sounded mildly bitter. "It was a real doozey. _Number two_."

"Doc, focus! Vic's number, what is it?" Church said.

"Come on Church, everybody remembers Vic's number! Didn't he ever teach you the song?" Church groaned. Ah, so he remembered.

"Oh right. Vic's jingle," he muttered. Doc grinned and sang the song from memory.

"If you want to talk, don't email. And don't you click, clickclickclick, just call me up at five five five V-I-C-K."

"You know, it probably would have been more memorable if it rhymed. Or if his name actually ended in a K," Church remarked drily, turning away slightly and dialing Vic.

"Oh, music is a great way to learn things. That's how I studied for the MCAT," Doc said. Church turned to him sharply, clearly disbelieving.

"You passed the MCAT?" he asked. Doc laughed.

"Not even close," he said, and wasn't that a great personal failure? "But you should really hear my rendition of the Kelly Clarkson song "Miss Independence." It teaches you all about the lymphatic system," he said, then began to sing, though Church told him to shut up before he got past the first line. Tucker Jr. honked loudly in... was it agreement? Yeesh, not even a full day old and the kid's making fun of him. Why couldn't he catch a break?

"And do me a favor, kill that freaky thing would ya?" Church added. Doc sighed. Such a violent person. "Vic! Hey, it's Church," Church said, apparently having connected. "Hey Vic, this is Church. I need ta..." Doc frowned. Hadn't Church already identified himself? Why was he repeating himself? Church sighed. "Okay, okay, come on." Doc quirked an eyebrow. What was going on? Oh, how he wished he could hear the other side of the conversation! "I know how to leave a goshdarn message!" Church snarled. Doc looked down at Tucker Jr., wondering if he should try covering the kid's ears. "Really, hang up, no schist. I was just gonna keep talkin' until he decided to check his voice mail." Okay, Doc had to admit, that was a prime example of sarcasm. "Just **give me the darn beep!** " Wow. Church was _really_ getting fed up. " **Come on!** " A beat passed and then... " _I will freaking stab you computer phone lady._ " Hum. Doc had a feeling the 'I'm-gritting-my-teeth' voice was angrier than his loud shouts. "There _is_ no eleven you **fudging** _ **witch!**_ "

"Ooh, language," Doc admonished.

" **I** _ **hate you!**_ " Church yelled into his radio. Finally, it seemed Church had gotten to the voice mailbox. "Vic, it's Church, I need y..." he said, then cut off before making a highly aggravated sound and muttering, "I'm gonna kill myself. I'm gonna kill myself."

"Uh... what was that about?" Doc asked. Church turned to the medic.

"Doc. We're royally messed up. Half our team is down and I think th..." he said, but Doc, seeing Caboose emerging from Blue Base, felt the need to correct him.

"No it's not, look! Caboose is already back in action," he said.

"I'm okay! I'm okay!" Caboose said... before collapsing again, this time in the sun. "I'm not okay!"

"He's fine," Doc said, though that was partly to convince himself. His darker side, the part of him woken up when O'Malley possessed him, was calling himself seven kinds of idiot for freezing the moment Tucker Jr. had latched onto Caboose's arm. If he had reacted sooner, perhaps Caboose would have only lost a pint of blood.

"Like I was saying, half the team is down, and the half that's left, sucks. So, all the Reds need to do is attack us, and we're dead," Church said.

"Hnnk!" Tucker Jr. noised.

"Oh right, and I have to kill this fudging thing," Church said, like killing children was an afterthought.

"Also, I see a big ship. Now I know I'm hallucinating!" Caboose yelled. This seemed to rile Church up more, because he started honest to goodness _ranting_.

"Oh, I forgot that part! The Reds also have an enormous ship that was sent by their Command. Probably has a huge fudging weapon on it. Like a nuke. Or a biological weapon that's gonna melt our skin. Or a genetic weapon that's gonna make everyone in Blue armor sterile... awesome."

"Hmmm. Maybe this isn't the best time to remind you that technically I'm neutral in this conflict," Doc mused. Sadly, he mused aloud. Where Church could hear him. And, of course, this set him off again.

"Doc, I don't think the situation could get much worse. I mean, the ship is bad enough, but goodness knows what kind of reinforcements they have in that thing. Could be a whole new squad! Or a Freelancer! Or..." And on he went. Doc sighed and tuned him out, going back to his previous musings.

/*/

"Wait a minute. She's yer sister?" Red asked, looking at the yellow soldier that had exited the ship with Rick.

"Yep," Dex said, popping his 'p'. Red shook his head at how sardonic his subordinate sounded at the moment. Oh sure he was used to disrespect and sarcasm, Dex had that down to an art form, but the 'the world hates me so much right now' attitude coupled with that special 'I'm gonna make you wish you were dead' tone was a new one.

"Isn't that cool?!" Kai asked, apparently over Dex having told her to leave... despite the tone he was using.

"Ya know, I always knew there was a genetic possibility that Grif would have blood relatives. But I always held onto the hope that he was the horrible by-product of an experiment..." Red said, only to get cut off by Dex picking up Eagle's dropped cudgel and whacking his CO in the head with it. "Insubordination!" Red called weakly from the ground, though he realized he kinda asked for it. Dex huffed, swinging the heavy metal club up to rest on his shoulder.

"If that's what it takes to stop you insulting me, so be it," he said, then turned to Kai. "But seriously. _Go home_ ," he said, his words holding as much weight and authority as they did when he was in the field.

"What?" Kai asked, having hoped he'd forget about the idea.

"Go home, _right now_. Get in your ship, uncrash it, and fly it home," Dex said firmly, tapping the cudgel against his shoulder, a faint _clang_ ringing out each time the weapon met his armor.

"Whatever. Make me," Kai challenged. Dex growled.

"Don't tempt me. I will not hesitated to beat you senseless and drop you in that ship myself," he snarled.

"I... I thought you'd be happy to see me," Kai said, staggering back at the venom in her brother's voice.

"How are you even here anyway?!" Dex asked, trying to deflect the question in her statement.

"Well, she _was_ the only one in the ship," Rick drawled. Dex growled at him.

"Not helping," he sniped.

"Hey. Who's the nerd?" Kai asked in a loud whisper, which made her sound stoned, or drunk. Honestly, it was kinda hard to tell.

"Excuse me, I'm not a nerd. I'm an IT expert. And the book-smart one," Rick defended.

"Alright Missy, there's just one thing I don't get. How'd you join the Army?" Red asked.

"What do you mean? I just... signed up," Kai said. Dex coughed, though it sounded remarkably like 'tex'. Rick snickered, then coughed as well. This time, it sounded a lot like 'marley'. Red grumbled, but stopped that line of questioning. His soldier's had a point after all.

"You'll have to excuse Sarge. He's... a bit of a traditionalist," Rick said.

"Thanks. Actually, they told me I was too young. So, I grabbed an extra suit of armor, and boosted a shuttle," Kai said. Dex sighed.

"And here I was hoping you wouldn't pick that up from me," he said, causing his teammates to turn to him in slight shock.

"Nohoho, I'm just kidding. I always wanted to do something like that," Kai said, far too cheerfully for Dex's liking.

"But why join the Army? That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard!" he protested.

"Well, you always looked after me when Mom ran away to join the circus," Kai began.

"W-wait second, hold on. Your Mom is in the circus? Hyou know, at first, I didn't like you, but you've already made my insults forty-five percent more efficient by just saying one sentence," Rick remarked, devious grin evident in his voice. Dex groaned while Red asked what their mom did in the circus.

"You know how circuses have a bearded lady and a fat lady? Well, _my_ Mom plays both, 'cause she's, like, _super_ -talented," Kai said. Rick started to cackle.

" _Oh. my. Godiva_. Is it okay if I record everything you say?" he asked, fingers already twitching toward the 'record' button on his helmet.

"Sure! Anyway, Dex always looked out for me, but after he went away, I didn't want to be alone," Kai answered.

"Okay, let me get this straight. You felt scared being alone, so you decided to join a war," Rick asked.

"She's a Grif alright," Red remarked. Dex sighed, shoulder's drooping slightly. Kai walked up to him, buoyant mood brought low by the reminder of _why_ she joined the army.

"Dex... you left. Why did you leave?" she asked.

"Kai..." Dex tried, but the words died on his tongue. So he took off his helmet to let his eyes do the talking for him.

/*/

Kai was curious about how her brother had changed over the last three years, how could she not be? But when her brother took off his helmet, to say she was surprised would be a bit of an understatement. Her brother's face had been soft the last time she saw him, his eyes gentle, if a little annoyed. Those weren't the eyes she saw now. They were shadowed, colder, but also filled with worry, confusion, pain, and love. But she couldn't get past how intense they had become. Finally, she tore her eyes away from his, and took in his face. What fat he'd had before had been striped away, leaving a harsh visage behind. A pale scar drew her attention perilously close to her brother's eyes, a thin line just above his right eye. Kai felt her jaw tightening reflexively at the sight. Whatever had happened to him, her big brother was a changed man. "What happened here?" she asked softly, fingers ghosting along the slightly raised scar tissue.

"I got that in training," Dex said, taking her by the wrist. "Rick's amazing with knives," he said, nodding toward the nerd. She looked over at him, eyebrows raised.

"He doesn't look that tough," she said, causing Dex to chuckle.

"Don't be fooled," he told her, "he's amazingly deadly in close combat."

"Really? That's kinda..." Kai began, but Dex's armored glove cuffed her sharply on the back of the head, cutting her off.

"Don't finish that sentence," he growled at her, eyes flashing. Rick quickly held up his hands.

"Hey man! Chill! I know your sister's off limits! I like my life, thanks," he said. Dex hummed, like he was thinking something over, then...

"Ya know... maybe I was wrong. Maybe the army is the best place for her. As long as Marley agrees to train her," he said. Kai couldn't help staring at her overprotective older brother in shock.

"Uh... Dex? Kai's staring at you like you've grown a second head," Rick said. "To be honest, even I'm wondering what's going on in that crazy head of yours. And I know you the best out of everyone!" Dex chuckled and clicked his helmet back into place.

"You watch her, I'm going to lay down some ground rules around here," he said, walking off toward Blue Base. Rick sighed, shaking his head.

"I kinda feel sorry for Blue Team," he remarked.

"Why? I know Dex is kind of over protective, but he's..." Kai began, only to be cut off by Rick.

"Our weapons expert and unregistered medic," he told her seriously. "Trust me, Blue Team is going to be walking on eggshells when you finally get over there." Kai felt a shiver go down her spine. Just what kind of beast had the Army turned her gruff, lazy, overprotective big brother into?

/*/

While the Reds were talking to Kai, and the Blues were trying to figure out what was going on with the ship that crashed, Doc was on a hill with a noticeably larger Tucker Jr., attempting to teach him English color names. "See, my suit is purple. Can you say purple? Pur?"

"Honk?"

"Pull."

"Hnnk."

"Great! Once we learn all the colors, we'll learn why you shouldn't judge people by them," Doc told the alien child. If only others could be taught that principle when they were young and impressionable.

/*/

"Oi! Blue Idiots! Listen up, got a few things ya need to know about!" Dex shouted at the Base when he arrived. Caboose, Church, and Tucker all peeked over the edge.

"What do you want?!" Church called. Dex sighed.

"Well, ya see, turns out, my sister joined Blue Army," he said. This caused a bit of a stir, though Caboose didn't know why his two teammates were now anxious. "Yeah. At first I wanted her home. That didn't work, and honestly, Dad's worse than Tucker any day of the week. So then I wanted to get her transferred to Red Army, but that won't work either. So! I've been forced to concede that perhaps, what Kai needs, is exactly what she's been signed up for. Blood Gulch Outpost Alpha. Now! Before I allow my wild child of a _little sister_ over here, there are a few ground rules!" he explained. Church sighed.

"Ya know, this might go a little easier, if we came down," he offered. Dex took a few steps back, and the Blues came out of the base.

"Right. Rule one. No hitting on my sister. She's far to likely to willingly let you take advantage of her. I find out you did..." Dex said, allowing the unspoken threat to hang in the air. Tucker gulped, but nodded.

"Right. Kai Grif is off limits. Got it," he squeaked. Dex nodded.

"Rule two. Kai is _not_ , under _any_ circumstances allowed to drink alcohol. The consequences will result in not only my wrath, but massive property damage well before I even get started."

"No drinks for Kai. Understood," Church whimpered, imagining the horror of a drunk Kai.

"Rule three. Hurt her, and _no-one_ will _**ever**_ find your bodies," Dex growled. The Blues nodded. "Rule four. Don't let her out of your sight for more than an hour. She's worse than me when it comes to finding trouble." He could hear the Blues swallowing heavily. "That said, I'd like you to help her develop some sort of discipline and responsibility. Church, Marley's going to be training her so as long as you know when she get's picked up, don't worry too much about rule four." Church nodded. "Okay. Now that we understand each other, I'll go send Kai over. _Do_ _ **not**_ make me regret this."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Church said. Nodding, Dex left to contact Marley, though he had a feeling the woman had already heard him. Crazy spying ex-Freelancer chick.

/*/

Marley was ready and waiting when Dex called. "Yes, I'll train your sister. And I'll let Church know _he_ was the one promoted to replace Captain Flowers," she said as soon as Dex called.

"Ya know, I really shouldn't be surprised... but I am," Dex said. Marley chuckled.

"I've been essentially grounded while patching York up, and making sure he stays that way. Is it really any wonder that I'd go to ground near my team?" she asked. Dex chuckled, shaking his head.

"How is he anyway?" he asked, thinking about York and how near he came to death.

"Still out, though he did wake for a little bit not too long ago. I'd say, he's on the fringe of the woods now, and that he's in a natural sleep. I give it another day or so before he wakes fully," Marley said. Dex nodded, unsure of whether or not she could see him.

"Understood. So... you really will train Kai?" Marley smiled at the raw love and concern in Dex's voice.

"Yeah. As if she were my own. You have my word," she told him. He let out a heavy sigh, a great weight having lifted from his shoulders.

"Thank you, Marley. And... and you'll," he floundered, causing Marley to frown.

"I'll... what?" she prompted. Dex swallowed heavily.

"You'll explain. Why I left her. Why she never heard from me," he said, near pleading. Marley sighed, though there was a soft, sad smile on her face. Say what you will about him, but Dexter Grif was a loving big brother through and through.

"I will, Dex. I'll explain everything. Including my involvement in your recent past," she said.

"Marley... I don't want her to hate me." This took the doctor by surprise. Not so much the words, but how he said them. There was a quiver there, fear and uncertainty laid bare to the woman. It spoke of how much Dex trusted her... and how worried he was about how his beloved sister would react to what he had done as a soldier.

"Oh Dex. She won't hate you. And I'll do my best to make sure she doesn't fear you either. If she starts, I'll introduce her to York, let him tell her how he'd be dead without you. And I'm fairly sure Delta could help her if she has any problems. That A.I. is as good as a therapist in my books," Marley told her student. Dex sighed.

"Thanks. Again. I just... I can't lose her, Marley. She's the only member of my family that I actually care about."

"I know. I get it, Dex. It's time you return to your team and escort your sister to Blue Base. If I could, I'd allow you guys to use paint rounds, to avoid accidents, but..."

"Don't. I get it. And maybe the danger... maybe it's what Kai needs. Just... keep an eye on her around Tucker, would you?" Marley laughed.

"I think you took care of that concern already, Dex! You seem to keep forgetting just how scary you really are, when you put in the effort to be," she told him. He huffed and hung up, leaving a cackling Marley and smirking Flowdie to their merriment.

"Ya know, you really did turn him into a beast," Flowdie told his comrade. Marley shrugged, grinning unrepentantly at him.

"Meh, all I did was give him some motivation. He did the rest to himself!" she said. Flowdie shook his head, staring down at the Sim. Troopers.

"How much true potential is down there, being wasted in this box canyon?" he mused. Marley shrugged.

"Not too sure, but I can tell you this. Freelancer and The Meta aren't gonna know what hit 'em!" she said, grin turning a bit feral. Flowdie shivered, remembering how she got the title that she did. The Surgeon of Death.

/*/

Kai watched as her brother sauntered down the hill toward her. "Ah, the conquering hero. Did the Blues whimper when you went Daddy Bear on them?" Rick asked. Dex chuckled darkly.

"Not exactly. Tucker isn't going to be a problem though. And Church is gonna be looking out for her," he answered. Rick shook his head.

"Still weird to think you have a sister. And that said sister is _here_ ," he said.

"Do we have to give her up?" Sarge asked, sounding rather hopeful, and just a little whiny. Dex sighed, slumping slightly. Kai was a little surprised. While it looked more like his usual stance, it also looked... wrong. ' _This was what he needed,_ ' she realized. ' _This army built him back up. Gave him a purpose outside of the family._ ' She wondered if she'd find that.

"Yes. We do," Dex said, then took his helmet back off and turned to his sister. "Kai, before I take you to your base, there are a few things I have to tell you." She nodded, the look on his face killing any protests she might have made, likely the reason he removed his helmet, and Dex passed her a piece of paper. "If you get into any scrapes, call one of these guys. They'll help you out. Oh! But Black is a woman. I'll make sure no-one on my team actually hits you, but we will be shooting at you. Be careful, don't go near any Reds who aren't from this canyon, and whatever you do, don't embarrass the family. Think of mom."

"Didn't do me any favors, witch," Kai growled. Dex nodded, a slight smile creasing his face and causing Kai's breath to catch slightly. Dang her brother was fine!

"Kai?" he asked, smile slipping and brows furrowing in concern. She shook herself.

"It's nothing. You're just... hot," she said before pushing past him toward her new base. She heard him running after her a moment later, clicking his helmet back into place. Soon, far too soon in Kai's opinion, they reached Blue Base.

"Hello the Base! I've brought your new recruit! Now the teams are even!" Dex bellowed. Kai winced at the volume. Sheesh, Dex had a pair of lungs on him all right.

"Oh. Back already?" a cranky gray guy shouted. Seriously, it was at times like these that Kai _hated_ being color blind. She couldn't tell anyone apart!

"Yeah. Church, Tucker, Caboose... this... is Kai. Hurt her, in any way, and I... I won't be held responsible for what I do to you," Dex shouted back. Kai shivered at his threat.

"What did they do to you," she whispered. His helmet turned to her... then he sighed and hung his head.

"Ya know... this is why I didn't want you here, Kai," he said softly, but his voice carried and Kai could see the guy on the base flinch. "I'm not the Dex you remember, Kai. I... Soldiers do things, in war. Terrible, scarring things. Things... things they never imagined they would ever do. And it changes them. Even if they never see active combat, they see things, hear things, and they _never_ return the same as when they left. Maybe, if things had been different, I wouldn't..." he cut himself off and shook his head before he shoved her toward the base.

"Dex?" Kai asked, worried for her brother. She may be a ditz, but when it came to her family, she tried to pay better attention.

"I'm not your brother now, Blue," Dex said, and his voice was cold and hard, sending a shiver down her back. "I'll look out for you, like I always have, but from here on out..." Kai leapt backwards as, in a single motion, Dex swung his BR off his shoulder and fired at the ground by her feet. "From here on out it's tough love, sista," Dex said before he did an abrupt about face and stalked off. Church couldn't even ask what else was on the ship. Tucker couldn't ask about snacks. Caboose couldn't ask about cookies. All Blue Team could only watch as the orange soldier sauntered out of view.

"Hey... you wanna come in and... have some juice?" one of the guys called down to her. She couldn't move. She couldn't think. Her brother... was abandoning her? "Kai?" Why was he doing this?! "Oi! Kai Grif! I asked you a question!"

"Huh? What?" Kai asked, jerking around. A gray helmet. Again, she cursed being born color blind.

"You wanna come have some juice?" the guy asked. She nodded numbly and allowed herself to be lead into the base.

"So. I just got off the radio with... Command. She's here because of Captain Flowers. I'm getting promoted, and she's here to fill my spot. Like Grif said, now the teams are even," the first voice said, a gray armored figure coming into view.

"I really need to get you guys name tags," Kai muttered, but, of course, they heard her. Not for the first time, the Grif luck was cursed.

"Huh?" both guys asked.

"Oh yeah! Kai's color blind, so you might what to add identifying marks to your armor!" Dex bellowed from outside. Kai's eyes went wide, and the one to the right took off his helmet.

"Until we can fallow his suggestion, this should do. I'm Church, team leader," the one of the left said. "I... kinda can't take my helmet off, so... yeah." She turned to the one who had taken his helmet off. He had a round face, pert nose, and short, curly hair. Oh, and a rakish grin, even if it looked a little wary.

"I'm Tucker," he said, holding out a hand. Kai smiled a little and took the offered hand.

"Kaikaina Grif," she said, shaking Tucker's hand, "but you can call me Kai."

"Nice to meet you," Tucker said with a grin.

"Well uh, welcome to Blue Team. I guess we should probably give you uh, some kind of orientation or somethin' like that. So, this is, uh, this is the base here," Church said, putting a hand on her back and lightly pushing her toward the door. "This is the outside of the base. You saw the inside... inside the base there, through the door." Kai followed his arm as he mindlessly gestured to the door. She had a feeling this guy didn't know what he was doing, but she went along with it. "Um, there's a ramp over her, there's another one on the other side. It's kinda smaller, does the same thing though. Uh, it's got a basement... nuhm, there's a middle part 'n' there's a top part... got some, you know, blue flags here, on the outside. 'S come in handy when you're, you know, trying to identify the color of the base. It's blue. Anyway, that uh, pretty much covers the base so... anyway, yeah. That's it."

"Cool," Kai said, nodding along.

"As I've said, I'm Church. I'm the leader. Everybody looks up to me. Pretty much the only rule for rookies on the Blue Team is: don't kill the leader. That's me," Church said. Kai blinked.

"That's it?" she asked. Just what the heck happened on Blue Team that _that_ was the rule that got stressed as 'pretty much the only rule'?

"That's it," Church confirmed, nodding once again.

"Sounds easy," Kai challenged.

"Yeah well, we're... we're still waiting for someone to follow that rule," Church said, halfway between irritated and bemused. "So anyway, uh, tell me about yourself. What's your training?"

"Training?" Kai asked. Okay, now... now she was questioning her decision to join the army.

"Yeah. What've you been told so far?" Church said. Oh. Well. She could handle that!

"Oh right. That's the base, and you're the leader, and I shouldn't kill you. Ever... Did I pass?" Church seemed to falter.

"N-no. I mean, like, what kind of _military_ training do you have? Weapons?" he asked.

"Uh... those sound violent," Kai answered.

"Yeah... okay. What about... operations?" Church tried, a little desperate now.

"I don't even know how that works," Kai informed him, far too cheery.

"Communications?"

"Say _what?_ " Kai was totally confused. This guy was saying words... but she didn't know what he was saying!

"Huhhh, intelligence?" Church attempted.

"Uhhh, huh?" Kai replied.

"Hhh, great," Church huffed, turning toward the base.

"Yeah, sorry. Doesn't sound like I have any of the skill you need. Unless you wanna see my ping pong ball trick," Kai said.

"Yeah... wait, what?" Church said as he spun back to face her. Before she could respond, he held up a hand, shaking his head. "Don't worry about it, Kai. Your brother already set up training for you. At first, I had assumed that he meant _additional_ training, but now I see why he chose who he did," he said.

"Who?" Kai asked, following Church back inside.

"You'll see," he replied cryptically. Kai was seriously beginning to question her actions.

/*/

Tucker greeted the pair when they got back from the tour. "So, Church give you the low down?" he asked.

"Yeah... didn't cover your job yet though," Church said. Tucker shrugged.

"I'm just chillin'. That's the only rule on Blue Team Rookie: be cool," he said. Kai tilted her head.

"I thought the only rule was 'don't kill the leader'," she said, sounding puzzled. Tucker grinned with a soft chuckle.

"Yeah, but we break that rule all the time. That's what makes us so cool," he said.

"Awesome. On Red Team, we make that rule..." began Kai, but Junior cut her off.

"Rawr, rawr, rawr!" he noised.

"Oh cool, you have a dog?" Kai asked.

"Uh, that's not a dog. That's my kid," Tucker said, feeling a little insulted on Junior's behalf.

"Oh _cool_. You have a kid that looks like a dog?" she tried. Tucker felt the corner of his mouth twitch involuntarily. For a Grif, she was pretty hard to hate.

"Nice save," Church remarked lightly, then caught sight of the only Blue she hadn't actually met.

"Hey, ya know what? I think I have the perfect tour guide for you. Hey Caboose! Come here!" he called.

"I thought about having a kid once," Kai told Tucker. This, of course, got him interested.

"Oh really? It's a lot of work," he told her.

"Yeah. It seem like it would be hard. But I thought, you know, who wants to be known as the girl who's had seven abortions?" Kai said. Tucker nodded.

"Heh, yeheah... wait, what?" he said, her words finally catching up to him. Suddenly, Dex's warning made a _whole_ lot more sense.

"Alright, _this_ is Caboose. He can tell you _everything_ you'd possible need to know about Blue Base," Church said, Caboose coming to a stop beside him.

"Is she a mean girl, or a regular girl?" Caboose asked. Tucker nearly snorted. Kai was neither.

"Caboose, what did I tell you?" Church prompted.

"That there are no regular girls," Caboose dutifully repeated, sounding vaguely disappointed... as well as having rehearsed the line several times. He likely had.

"Exactly. Alright, so just stick with him, ask him any questions you have, aaand just don't bother me. Or Tucker," Church said dismissively. Tucker suddenly had the urge to whack his comrade with his gun.

"What do I tell her?" Caboose asked, sounding as close to concerned as Tucker had ever heard him.

"Well, I already know the the rule," Kai supplied.

"I hate that stupid rule," Caboose remarked tightly. How one could speak tightly, Tucker didn't know, but Caboose managed it.

"Go show her Doc and Sheila," Tucker suggested. Caboose turned on his heel and directed Kai's attention to where the two were hanging out.

"The purple one is Doc, and the big one is Shelia," the simple soldier told her.

"Huh. Ya know, I was hoping that would take longer. And farther away," Church remarked. Kai and Caboose turned back to the other two.

"And who's the black one?" Kai asked.

"The black one?" Church asked. Tucker shot him a look. Was he nervous?

"Yeah, the one in the black armor? The one standing _right behind you guys_?" Kai repeated.

"The black one, yeah... Wait... what?" Caboose asked.

/?/

A/N: Yeah... Kai everybody! And Dex is Brother Bear. Fear the Brother Bear, he has Maulers.

Edited for continuity and spelling. 8/22/16


	33. Episode 31

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB.

 **Episode 31** : Into the Great Unknown

Red stared at Dex. The soldier was sitting, hunched over, in the corner, hugging his knees and staring at the concrete floor of the base. In short, Dex looked completely and utterly defeated. Seriously, Red had never seen Dex so crushed. The only saving grace the Sargent could see in the situation was that Dex still had his helmet on. But still... "Wow. I've never seen Dex look so crushed," Rick remarked, stepping up beside his official CO. Red nodded.

"I think... turning Kai over to the Blues was harder on him than he made it out to be," he said softly. Rick hummed.

"Maybe," he allowed, then shook his head. "Sargent... I have an idea." Red turned to the maroon Agent, quirking a hidden eyebrow. "Permission to attempt contact with Emoland?" Rick asked, jerking a thumb over toward the corner. Red chuckled, but nodded. Giving a nod of thanks, Rick sauntered over toward Dex. "Oi! Orange Baron! Ya gonna sit there and mope all day, or are we gonna see if we can't get Eagle out of the caves?" Dex twitched. "Come on! If you can get the Pelican working, we can move it to a better spot and use Eagle's entry point to get a rope down there. If we lower the rope from where he fell, we'd have a higher chance of finding him within the next week." Dex twitched again, and lifted his head.

"You pilot the Pelican, Maroon. I... I don't think I'm up to it," he said and the tone of his voice made Rick flinch. He sounded even worse than he looked.

"Dex... come on man. What's eating at you?" Rick asked.

"Well... I just found out that my sister not only joined the army, but that she's on the opposite team, doesn't have a lick of training because she more than likely stole someone else's orders and Pelican, and _then_ , I had to shoot at her! So excuse me while I try to pull the shattered pieces of my soul back together," the man said, turning back to the floor. Rick sighed.

"Alright. That is pretty bad. But Dex... Eagle looks up to you. He respects you. Trusts you. Heck, I think he sees you as a big brother! Can you honestly, in good conscience, leave him down there in the caves with snakes and bugs and bats? Would you want him to leave you there, if your roles were reversed?" Dex growled as he pushed himself to his feet.

"Darn you and your reverse psychology. Alright, grab the rope, we're gonna need all of it," he said before he stalked off toward the ship. Rick smirked under his helmet and headed toward storage to get the rope, clapping Red on the shoulder as he passed.

"How'd you do that?" Red asked in a harsh whisper as he followed Rick. The IT wizard chuckled.

"Eh, I just appealed to his nobler nature," he said. Red shook his head.

"Never pegged you as a psychologist, Rick," he remarked following the other man. Rick chuckled.

"Don't need a degree to mess with peoples' heads, Red. You of all people should know that," he said.

/*/

The ship was in pretty bad shape. Dex sighed as he looked the wreak over. "Dang it, Kai! Why did you have to try flying a Pelican without training? Even _I'd_ crash it without _some_ sort of training," he muttered, then chuckled. "What am I saying? Even with a tutorial program I might... no... _would_ crash it trying to land." He sighed and went inside to check the flight systems. Luckily, they were intact. He set about turning the thing on. He was nearly done with the start up sequence by the time Red and Rick, loaded down with all the rope they had in the Base, reached him.

"How's it look, Dex?" Rick asked, dumping his load and coming to sit in the co-pilot seat.

"Well, the hull's battered, the landing gear is jammed, and various bits and bobs are out of place and dinged up, but all in all," Dex said, punching the last button and firing up the ship's engines, "rumbles just like my first car," he finished with a smirk. Rick chuckled.

"Well, before we take off and need to make another crash landing," he stood and started back out, "let's see what we can do about that landing gear, eh?"

"I never knew you were Canadian. Why don't you tell us these things Rick?" Dex said, shutting the ship down and following him out.

"Dutch. Irish. Jerk," Rick remarked, already pulling out his tools to get to work on the Pelican's jammed gear.

"I know you are, but what am I?" Dex asked, grinning as he pulled at a piece of twisted metal. Rick snarled.

"Oh, you are _so_ funny," he said. There was a loud _CRUNCH! a_ nd the landing gear pushed out. Dex grinned and dashed back inside, starting the ship's systems back up, retracted the landing gear, and fired up the engines.

"Rick! Red! Get your rope out of the ship! I'm gonna move it behind the Base!" he yelled. He waited until acknowledgment lights flicked twice on his HUD before he took off and flew the Pelican the short distance from the crash site to behind the Red Base. When he returned, Rick and Red had already tied the rope together. "Alright, I'll act as anchor while you guys go get Eagle."

"Oh no! We've already anchored the rope to that there rock! Yer coming down with us," Red said, pointing to a large rock three feet away. Dex sighed, slumping slightly.

"Right. Down into the no doubt bat infested caverns I go. Hope you're happy," he grumbled, grabbing the rope and hopping down the hole, holding tight. Rick watched him repel down, a little in awe. He had honestly expected Dex to argue, or demand to go last, second at best, not to take the initiative and go down first.

"Ya know, it's at moments like this that I'm forcefully reminded of just how wrong I was about Grif," Red said, also watching the orange soldier as he descended.

"And here I thought you'd learned to stop thinking of him as..." Rick began.

"Only Grif, I know," Red said with a sigh, shaking his head. "It's just so hard, going against three years of learned behavior." Rick sighed, shaking his head as well.

"But as much as orange means Grif, it means Dex, Red. You can't forget that because otherwise, eventually, he'll snap. Well, more than he already has. And when that day comes... well. I've got an eulogy all thought out. A few edits to make it current, and hey presto! Instant funeral," he said, then slid down the hole, grabbing the rope on his way down. Red winced, but followed a moment after. Sometimes, he hated when his subordinates were right.

/*/

As soon as the black figure realized it'd been spotted, it open fired on the Blues. "RETREAT!" bellowed Church, running for cover behind the Base. Tucker screamed as he ran while Caboose kept repeating something that sounded like 'take bar.'

"Who is that?" Kai asked, following the running Blues.

"That's Tex," Tucker told her, hunkering down as he ran.

"Whoah, he's a badass," Kai said as a bullet skimmed over her shoulder. One of Tex's bullets caught Caboose, but instead of crumpling in pain like Kai half expected him to, he just said 'ow' and kept on running. "He's kinda hot," Kai finished, taking cover behind the Base with the rest of her new squad.

"Tex isn't a guy, she's a girl," Tucker corrected.

"Oh, sorry. _She's_ a badass. She's kinda hot!" Kai amended, standing by her first assessment. Nothing wrong with admiring another woman for her strong character after all.

"She's actually Church's ex-girlfriend," Tucker told her.

"Oh yeah?" Kai remarked as more bullets slammed into the concrete of the base. "Why aren't you guys dating anymore?" she asked, only partially sarcastic.

"Are you seriously asking that question right now?" Church asked, a little panicked. Kai shrugged. What other time was there if they were likely to die today?

"Last time I was shot, I got a Purple Heart. Yeah, uh, I hope this time, I get a Purple Lung. You see, eventually, I... I hope to build an entire purple person. And we will be best friends," Caboose said from Kai's left.

"Maybe you should ask for a purple brain," Tucker muttered. Caboose turned to him and said, in a rather aggravated tone,

"You're just jealous 'cause you have no friends." Tucker, with the skill of long practice, ignored Caboose and asked,

"Why is she shooting at us?" Church turned to look at him, and Kai had a feeling he was giving the other soldier a baleful look.

"How should I know? And why are you acting like this is unusual?" Blue Leader asked. Kai quirked her own eyebrow. Huh. Perhaps _this_ was why Tex and Church broke up.

"Well, go out there and tell her to stop," Tucker said, like it was the easiest and most logical step to take. A couple of bullets flew over the concrete ridge they were taking shelter behind.

"Yeah. I'll get right on that," Church said sarcastically. Kai regarded him with slight curiosity.

"Uh, aren't you like, the leader or something?" she asked.

"Uh... yes, Kai, I am the leader. Which is why I am officially appointing you our Field Negotiator," Church responded, a little frantic toward the end.

"Awesome!" Kai said, grinning. Wait until she told... The smile dropped from her face. She didn't have a brother here, not now. She couldn't tell him she had gotten her first official job title. This... wasn't going to be as awesome as she had thought.

"Yes, congratulations. We're all very proud of you. Your first job is to get Tex to stop firing at us," Church said, still rather heavy on the sarcasm.

"Cool," Kai said, then stood up. Right in the path of the bullets. "Hey, Tex! Stop firing you stupid _witch!_ " she yelled.

"Nice negotiating," Tucker said. Kai held off on giving him the stink eye for the sarcasm she was starting to see was a trend on Blue Team.

"Well, she's not firing. I think that actually worked. Let me check," Church said, sounding hopeful. However, when he stood up, he got shot in the head. His body fell to the ground while a translucent figure was left standing. "Nope, she still has ammo," he remarked, sounding resigned. Kai felt her heart speed up and her eyes go wide. A ghost. Church was a ghost. Holy moly, she was on a team with a _freakin'_ _ **ghost**_! Did Dex know about this? If he did, why did he leave her here?!

"Nice recon work." It was Tucker's heavily sarcastic remark that drew Kai back into what was all too swiftly becoming her reality.

"I'm gonna go get my body back," Church said, tromping off to reclaim the empty shell that Kai now realized was a robotic body.

"Yeah, good idea," Tucker told him.

"I'm on a team with crazy," Kai quietly told herself, not quite believing that these were actually soldiers.

/*/

Dex's feet hit rock and he immediately flicked on his helmet lights. "I. Freakn'. Hate. _Caves,_ " he growled, Rick landing not too long after.

"I know big guy. Just keep it together until we find Eagle, alright?" he said, clapping Dex on the shoulder.

"If the bats come for me... I'm tripping you and getting the heck out of dodge," Dex muttered as Red landed and turned on his helmet lights as well.

"Nice to know you care," Rick remarked lightly. Dex snorted and tried to hail Eagle over the radio, to no avail.

"Canyon take it all! Something's wrong with Eagle's radio. We're gonna have to do this the old fashioned way," he remarked. He turned to his teammates. "Comms check. Rick, you good?" he said, switching off his external speaker and just using his radio.

"A~firmative," Rick said, pulling one of his knives, a balisong, and flipping it about. Dex could now all-too-easily picture the easy, cocky grin on Simmons' face.

"Red?" he asked, turning to his official CO and trying to block the image of a smugly grinning Simmons from his mind. It was a mildly unsettling image.

"I thought I was the Commanding Officer here," the southerner remarked, but used his comm as confirmation. Dex chuckled.

"Oh, you are. I'm just that cocky jerk who questions everything and everyone while believing that his plans should be heard before they're discarded," he said, then became serious once more. "I'll take North-Northeast."

"North," Rick said.

"North-Northwest," Red said as he began to walk.

/*/

Meanwhile, Church had gotten his body back and was asking Tucker if it was on straight. "Dude, I don't even know what that means," the cyan trooper told his comrade. Just then, Tex ran around the concrete ridge, gun pointed in their general direction.

"Freeze! Nobody move," she ordered. Of course, Tucker just had to comment on this command.

"We're already not moving. You could have just said, 'everybody keep doing what you're not doing'," he said. He was rewarded with Tex's gun moving to more accurately aim at him and a barked,

"Shut up!"

"Whatever," Tucker muttered, turning away from her.

"Tex, what is your problem?" Church asked. Even Kai could see this might not have been the best way to approach the subject.

"My problem, is that O'Malley isn't in Doc any more. He's jumped into somebody else, and I'm not trustin' anybody. Not until I find out who," Tex said sharply, still holding her gun in a threatening manner.

"Yeah, we already know all that. We're on top of the situation," Church said.

"You are?" Tex remarked, sounding a little surprised. "Then who did O'Mally jump in to?"

"Oh. Yeah. I meant, we were no top of everything up until that point," Church amended, having the good grace to sound a little ashamed.

"Typical," Tex drawled.

"Who's O'Malley?" Kai asked.

"Eah, it's just some computer program that wants to destroy the universe. He infects people around here from time to time, but neh, it's no big deal," Tucker said by way of explanation.

"Sounds scary," Kai remarked blandly.

"Naw, it's all good ba... er... Kai. We'll look out for you," Tucker said, hastily amending what he had been about to say. Visions of angry big brothers with heavy artillery tend to put a damper on flirting.

"None of us are infected, Tex. But I am a little worried about the tank. She's been actin' really weird lately. Can an A.I. Implant in a... Tex?" Church began, trailing off when he noticed his ex-girlfriend staring at Kai.

"Who's the girl?" Tex asked, causing Kai to flinch slightly. Luckily, it didn't translate to the armor.

"What? Who, Kai? Oh, she's just a new recruit," Church said.

"You mean to tell me I'm only gone a few weeks, and you guys get yourselves a new girl?" Tex asked, sounding rather insulted. Kai blinked.

"Oh. Um..." Church trailed off awkwardly.

"Whoa. Tread lightly dude, tread lightly," Tucker said, backing up and away from Church.

"You know, I wasn't actually scared, until right, just now," Caboose said, mimicking Tucker.

"I'm Kaikaina Grif!" Kai said, bouncing forward with her hand out. Tex started slightly.

"Grif?" she repeated, looking toward Church.

"Yeah... she's the orange one's little sister. He was _very_ clear that we shouldn't let anything bad happen to her," he told Tex.

"Okay then," Tex said, stepping back. Kai blinked. Wait... what?

/*/

It took a while, but eventually, Red found Eagle. "Eagle!" he called. The burgundy Agent turned quickly, giving his CO a lazy half salute.

"Hey Red," he said, "what're you doing down here?"

"Looking for you," Red told him. Eagle shrugged.

"Here I am. Wanna see what I found?" he asked, already loping off. Red let out an aggravated sigh, but followed, radioing Rick and Dex as he went.

"You find him Red?" Dex asked. It might have been Red's imagination, but he thought the other man might have been highly annoyed. ' _Must be the possibility of bats_ ,' Red thought, brushing it off.

"Yep," he told Dex.

"Transmit your coordinates, we'll come to you," Rick said.

"Oh yeah, and I left a beacon at the rope, so we can easily find our way back topside," Dex added.

"Good work Dex. Eagle says he's found something, so we're on the move," Red told them. Twin sighs came over the radio.

"Just... transmit when you get to a good spot alright?" Dex asked.

"Right. Stand by," Red said, then shut off his radio.

"Look," Eagle said, pointing to a structure that looked like...

"Is that a Blue Base?" Red asked, staring.

"Yes. And that..." Eagle said, shifting the angle of his arm.

"A Banshee? What's that doing down here?" Red asked, now rather concerned. "Why didn't you..."

"My radio broke in the fall," Eagle said, anticipating Red's question. Nodding, Red called it in to The Ghost.

"Oh. Yeah. Um... there were a couple Elites looking for Flowdie's body, but it isn't there, because he's alive and... there's no telling what they might have done. Or will do. Thanks for the reminder. I'll let Dex and Rick know. Hopefully, they won't get drugged via Needler," Marley said, then cut out. Red sighed.

"Shoulda known. It's a Wednesday," he remarked.

/*/

Meanwhile, Doc was returning from his 'session' with Sheila. "Okay, I talked to Sheila. You guys were right; she definitely seems a little odd," he told the assembled Blues, not noticing Kai.

"Yup, so what do you think?" Church asked, turning to him.

"I... think there's something wrong?" Doc said. He wondered if Church was being stupid on purpose. Probably not, but hey, ya never really knew around here.

"That's your diagnosis? That's why we sent you down there, man! Because we knew something was wrong," Church said. Doc frowned under his helmet. Fair turn about was one thing, condescension was another. And he'd gotten rather good at telling the two apart. ' _Huh. Maybe O'Malley did some good after all,_ ' Doc considered, not for the first time.

"I'm a medic," he said slowly and emphatically, "what do you want from me?"

"How about fixing her?" Church suggested. Doc regarded him blankly.

"Well, surprisingly, my medical training didn't cover internal combustion," he said levelly, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. He was met with limited success.

"What a crummy medical school," Church complained, apparently missing something. Doc nearly glowered at him.

"Yeah, where'd you go, the University of Jamaica?" Tucker couldn't help jibing.

"Oh please," Doc scoffed, "I wouldn't be caught dead on that campus. I went to Jamaica State! Who's Jamaica State's Fighting Irish?" Church and Tucker shared a look before turning back to him.

"That's Notre Dame," Church told him tonelessly.

"Well, since we're international, we don't really have to adhere to the U.S. Copyright laws. So..." Doc said, but got cut off by an impatient Church.

"Never mind. Just go back down there and see if you can reboot Sheila," he told the hapless medic.

"Reboot her?" asked Doc, mildly incredulous.

"Yeah dude, that's how you fix broken stuff. You turn her off, and then you turn her back on again. She'll be fine," Tucker said.

"I don't think that'll work," Doc told them flatly.

"Uh, pardon me, it works great. We already rebooted the toaster, we rebooted the teleporter," Church said, beginning to list what they had 'rebooted.'

"Yeah, I still don't know it that thing has all the bugs worked out," Tucker said, turning to said teleporter. Doc was fairly certain he was glaring in it's general direction. Weird.

"We even rebooted Caboose's armor once. Although, that took longer to come back online than we thought it would," Church went on, as though Tucker hadn't spoken. Now, Doc was fairly certain he should feel outraged at this reckless endangerment of Caboose, but somehow he'd become desensitized to the outright insanity and callousness of the Blood Gulch Crew.

"It was dark and I got to hold my breath. I'm pretty sure there was no side-effects," Caboose said innocently.

"No, I mean I don't think it'll work because I'm not going back down there. She's not exactly in the best of moods," Doc told them, Sheila firing a shell in their general direction at _just that moment_. ' _Huh. Nice timing_ ,' Doc thought. "See?" he said out loud. The Blues shared a look.

"Yeah, we need to get someone sneaky down there who can turn her off," Church said.

"How 'bout Tucker?" Doc suggested.

"Who me?" Tucker asked sharply, turning to Doc, "no way! I'm a lover, not a sneaker." Doc blinked and gave him a bland 'you're an idiot' look. He'd certainly earned it.

"Oh, that's your response to everything," he told the cyan soldier. ' _Why can't you just man up and do it? Do anything!_ '

"What can I tell you? I'm a lover, not a thinker," Tucker responded, though Doc didn't really hear him. He was examining that last thought. Maybe... that was why no-body liked him? He had an excuse for everything? He didn't do anything? Did he need to man up? Maybe, but he certainly wasn't gonna do it just yet! For one thing, that tank was scary and for another, it hadn't turned out well when he'd stood up for himself the last time. "How 'bout Tex?"

"Yeah, we couldn't afford it. If only we knew someone that Sheila trusted. And it would have to be someone kinda dumb, so that we could fool them into betraying that trust, for our purposes..." Church said, turning to look at Caboose along with Tucker.

"Hey... everyone it looking at me... I love it when they do that! Hi everybody!" Caboose said, waving slightly. ' _Oh Caboose, how abused you are... and your poor, damaged, brain... and psyche I'd wager... can't even comprehend that you are. Poor guy_ ,' Doc thought morosely, glad that Caboose couldn't see the pitying look he had on his face. He wasn't too sure how the trooper would take it.

/*/

Dex was the first to reach Eagle and Red. "Eagle! Thank goodness. Now I... we, can get out of this dank, dark, bat infested cave!" he remarked.

"Yeah... I found the dead Blues," Eagle said, pointing at the bodies. Dex sighed.

"Great. It's Wednesday, isn't it?" he asked. Eagle chuckled, but nodded. "Nutty Fudge Sunday on asphalt in July," Dex sighed. Red chuckled.

"For once, we agree!" he said. Dex started and turned to his official CO in stunned shock.

"Ya know... I think the bats got me. I could have sworn you said you agreed with me," he said. Red chuckled again.

"That's exactly what I said Dex," Red repeated. Dex shook his head.

"Repent, the end is nigh," he said softly. Rick jogged up to them, giving Dex an odd look.

"You okay man?" he asked.

"Eh he'll be fine," Red said dismissively, batting a hand.

"They agreed on something," Eagle said, crossing his arms to point at the still muttering Dex and the unconcerned Red. Rick jerked his head up with an 'ah.'

"Yeah. That would do it," he said, looking between the two. "So, find anything cool?"

"You could say that," Eagle said, and Rick was fairly sure he was grinning.

/*/

While the Reds were reuniting, the stage was set for Kai to finally meet Doc. The Blues were all gathered on the hill, boys on one side, girls on the other. "Well, I suppose I should figure out a way to get Tex to reboot Sheila. Man, I'm gonna have to call in a lot of favors for this one," Church said, shaking his head.

"What favors could you possibly have stored up with someone who dumped you?" asked Tucker.

"She didn't dump me, Tucker, it was mutual," Church said, hefting his sniper rifle in preparation to head over to where Tex and Kai were.

"Mutual in what way? Mutual in the sense that you were both single the moment after she dumped you?" Tucker asked with a scoff. Church sighed, his head drooping a little.

"Yeah, that way. Come on Caboose, let's go explain the plan to Tex," he said, motioning the dark blue trooper forward. "Wish us luck," he told Doc and Tucker. The cyan soldier shook his head.

"Yeah right. Hey when she kills you, I'm gonna sell your armor to that pink guy on the Red Team. I hear he's in the market," he told the not-a-sniper.

"Hey, who's the yellow soldier?" Doc asked, just now noticing Kai. Looking over where Doc had nodded, Tucker shrugged.

"That's just Kai. She's new," he said, neglecting to mention who her brother was.

"No-one told me about a new arrival. I'm supposed to examine everyone before they assume active duty," Doc said, lifting his medical scanner and preparing to head over. Tucker scoffed, waving Doc off.

"Don't sweat it. I already checked her out for..." he said, then froze. Doc blinked.

"Tucker?" he asked slowly. The cyan soldier cleared his throat awkwardly and said, voice a little strained.

"She's good."

"Thanks, but I think a trained medical professional should be the one to look her over," Doc said. Tucker nodded, then said,

"Just... be polite about it, okay? Her brother's the orange guy on Red Team. Scariest one of the bunch." Doc blinked and turned back to Tucker.

"Really?" he asked. Tucker shuddered theatrically.

"Big time dude," he told the medic seriously. Doc shook his head.

"It's just a medical examination. Surely he'd allow it in order to make sure she's healthy," he said. Tucker held up his hands in defeat.

"Okay man. Your funeral," he said.

"Hey!" called Kai, having bounded up to them.

"What's up Kai, what'd you and Tex talk about?" Tucker asked her while Doc gave her a causal look over.

"Oh, she was just talking about everyone here. How you're all idiots and jerks, and you guys are _her_ idiots and jerks, and if I try to become more popular than her she would talk about me behind my back, and turn everyone against me, and then I would cry, and everyone would hate me... you know, girl stuff!" Kai said brightly. Doc blinked. If Tucker was right, and she was Grif's sister, then he'd just found an explanation for a couple of things he'd noticed about the orange soldier.

"Cool. Oh hey, speaking of girl stuff? This is Doc," Tucker said, motioning toward said medic.

"Hi," Kai said with a wave.

"Uh, hello, nice to meet you," he said, wondering how she could be related to the less energetic Grif. "I'm the medic. Eh, if it's okay with you, I need to give you a quick physical examination sense you're new. Do you want to come to the Base where you might feel more comfortable taking off all your clothes?" Doc finished, motioning toward the base behind them.

"Sure. Lead the way. See ya Tucker," Kai said, following the purple medic and leaving a confused Tucker behind.

"What the heck just happened?" he asked himself.

/*/

Meanwhile, in The Cave... "I found a computer system monitoring the whole canyon, secondary bases, the dead Blues which are actually short a body, and a Banshee. Among other things. And no, Dex, I didn't see any bats. Or snakes, Rick," Eagle said.

"Ya know... I'm starting to think you knows us all just a little too well, Eagle Eye," Dex said, though the others noticed he seemed a little more relaxed now that that was out of the way. "Now, as for the Blue bodies. Flowdie."

"Ah. Yes. That would explain it," Eagle said, nodding.

"As for the rest? Freelancer," Rick said, motioning toward... everything.

"Again. That would explain it."

"Can we go now? I need to fix the Pelican my crazy little sister, who I am _not_ stalking, crashed," Dex said, spinning on his heel and marching back toward the hole they'd come through... before something Eagle said clicked and he rushed back. "Did you say they had a monitoring system down here?"

"Yeah. About... a mile that way," Eagle said, pointing to his left.

"Right. You guys head back. I'm gonna find that equipment," Dex said before setting off at a jog.

"He's gonna spy on Kai, isn't he?" Rick drawled.

"Sucker's bet," Eagle said, shaking his head and walking toward the rope.

/*/

Tucker was looking for his son, when he found him inside the Blue Base. "There you are," Tucker greeted him with a hidden smile. He may not have been planning on having a kid, but Junior had wormed his way into the playboy wannabe's heart.

"Hnnnk!" Junior said, causing Tucker to chuckle quietly.

"You little rascal," he told his son, rubbing his head affectionately.

"Hnk!" Junior said. A moment later, Tucker heard Doc's voice from around the corner saying,

"Okay Kai, any other conditions I should know about?"

"Um, let's see. You know about all the ways I'm contagious, so I don't know if there's anything..." Kai said, trailing off in thought. Tucker edged nearer, Grif's warning making him a bit more cautious than he otherwise would have been. That was when he noticed the empty yellow armor laying on the ground and froze.

"Hey, what's going on here?" he asked.

"Oh! I'm color blind!" Kai said brightly, like she seemed to say just about everything.

"Really? That's weird. But I don't think it'll cause any problems here. Okay, go ahead and bend over," Doc instructed.

"Sure. Like this?" came Kai's response. Tucker forced himself to back away, taking Junior with him.

"What we don't know, Grif can't kill us for," he told his son, who honked at him. "You'll understand some day son," Tucker told him.

/*/

Red and Eagle had convinced Rick, after quite some time, to come with them after Dex. They found him staring at the monitor, which was displaying Blue Base. The Red's decided to ignore the glowing, pale green hologram hovering beside Dex's head. "Dude, you just gonna sit there?" Rick asked.

"Unless you know a way to get this equipment topside, yeah, that's what I was planning," Dex answered, still staring at the screen. A few moments later, an image of Kai's empty armor was shown. "Ho~! Hold on. What's this?" Dex asked, leaning forward slightly, body tense.

"Well. Looks like your sister isn't in her armor," Rick said. A few moments later, the scene changed to...

"That little slut, I'm gonna kill her!" Dex bellowed. Rick restrained himself from taking a screen shot and instead switched the camera view. Still, Dex was fuming. " **PUT YOUR CLOTHES BACK ON!** " he bellowed at the screen, which was now showing Tucker playing with his son outside the base. "Ugh, what's the _one thing_ I told her? _**Don't embarrass the family!**_ "

"Um... I don't think she's embarrassing the family," Rick said. Dex turned to glare at him.

"That's because you were decent enough to change the camera, Rick," he growled before stomping his way back to the rope. "I'm going to have a little... _**talk**_... with my _dearest_ little sister." Rick shared looks with the other Reds... and began to slowly meander in the general direction of the rope. No need to get there at the same time as Dex after all.

/*/

Meanwhile, Freelancer had contacted Church and told him to send some men through the caves to attack the Reds. Of course, this being Blood Gulch, nothing was going to go according to plan. And there was the matter of the two captured Elites, a talking bomb, and an aggressive A.I. all being held captive on The Ghost in orbit. But, we'll get to that in a moment. Right then, while Dex was marching toward the surface in a huff, Church was explaining that he'd been told to attack the Reds. "Attack? Shouldn't we call soldiers or the military for something like that?" asked Tucker. Like always, Church kept on talking as though Tucker hadn't spoken.

"And for some reason, he thinks it's a good idea for some of us to go through the caves," he finished.

"Why?" asked Tex, the military voice of military reason... or the Freelancer voice of Freelancer reason, whichever floats your crazy better.

"I don't know, who cares? So, me and Tex and Tucker are gonna go right up the middle," Church responded.

"What about my kid? He can't go into battle!" Tucker protested. Church sighed and turned to the two he least wanted in combat.

"Doc, Kai, and _Junior_ , you guys go get lost in the caves," he said.

"Oh," Tucker said, a little embarrassed.

"We'll come find you after the battle's over. Unless we die, in which case we won't find you, and you're gonna have to find us. And if that happens, I want to be buried as far away as possible from these two," Church went on, jerking his head toward Tex and Tucker.

"Yeah, and I want to be stuffed and put on a couch with a cooler full 'o beer, a bag full of cheese puff, non-stop re-runs of Baywatch and... ah ya know what, it's all in my will," Tucker said. Doc was actually rather pleased with himself for barely even blinking at the oddity of Tucker's 'final requests.'

"What about me?" Caboose asked, raising a hand, "can I get lost too?"

"No Caboose, I need you to stay here. With Sheila," Tex said. Doc blinked. Why watch her instead of take her with them?

"Yeah, if the Reds get the better of us, send her over," Church said.

"Oh. That would make sense," Caboose allowed.

"When should we go?" asked Doc, looking quickly at Kai and then beck at Church.

"Dhe, a, I don't care. Just be ready to come running with the Calvary if we start screaming in pain. Unless Tucker starts screaming in pain, in which case, you know, feel free to point and laugh," the cobalt solder said with a careless shrug. Tucker sighed and looked down at his son.

"Well little dude, I guess there's a time when every little boy becomes a man," he said.

"Tucker... he's only three days old," Doc said, wondering if there was something wrong with Tucker's head. Then again, there was likely something wrong with everyone in the canyon, but that was a thought for another time. And when he had more advanced equipment.

"Yeah, they grow up so fast," Tucker said, sounding a little choked up.

"Also, he's not a boy. He's a grub," Church said drily.

"The point is, you're on your own now, and I don't have time to tell you everything you need to know. So here's a few brief pointers. Invest in real estate, there's no such thing as a permanent record, always eat breakfast, all the girls on the internet are actually dudes, and you should never, ever buy the extended warranty on anything. Ever. Oh, also, chicks like it when you tell them 'you're pretty', but they also like it when you're kind of a jerk to 'em. So mix it up a little," Tucker told his son seriously. Doc sighed. While most of those were good things to tell your child... others weren't so great.

"Tucker! Let's go!" Church called, already on the ground.

"Okay little dude, I gotta go now. Tex needs me and Church to back her up," Tucker said in conclusion.

"Bow chicka honk honk," Junior said, causing Doc to blink.

"Huh. I guess you have been teaching him some stuff," the medic remarked, a little surprised.

"Teach?" Tucker echoed, turning to Doc. "You don't teach that. That stuff's genetic."

/?/

A/N: Well... there ya go. I'm... not too sure how the whole Wyoming vs Tucker thing is gonna go down, what with Garry unable to hop into an empty tank, seeing as the Blues aren't transferring Sheila into the crashed Pelican because Dex flew it behind their base _and_ because Gary is now with Dex. Yeah, this is where the AU gets a bit more major and tricky to write. Whoo, challenge... right? Ah well, hope you enjoyed the episode and I'll see you in about five days. Tchuss!

A/N 2: Yeah... the whole thing with the tank and Caboose staying at Blue Base needed to be heavily edited from the source material due to the above reasons. I like to think I made it a bit better with this edit. Also, spelling! 8/23/16


	34. Episode 32

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB.

 **Episode 32:** Storm's End

Back with the Reds, Dex was already up and out of the hole when they ran into Church and Tucker. "Outta the way, I got a medic to pound and a sister to berate," Dex growled, shoving past the pair, only to be stopped by Tex.

"Why?" she asked, gripping his arm. Dex growled, turning to glare at the woman... robot... A.I... man his life had gotten weird.

"He took advantage of her naivete and got her to undress and get into several... poses," he informed the ex-Freelancer. Tex shook her head and released him before pointing toward the caves.

"Doc and your sister went in there, along with Tucker's alien baby, apparently. You'll have to catch them there," she told him. He gave her a curt nod and took off running for the caves.

"KAIII! WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT EMBARRASSING THE FAMILY!?" he bellowed as he ran. The others all watched him run, a little amazed.

"Wow. Protective much?" Eagle asked, eyes wide.

"Dude... you didn't hear him when he delivered Kai to us," Tucker said, then gave a full body shudder. "Scariest thing I've ever heard... exempting Tex of course."

"Don't bother lying," Tex said seriously. "That man... he's given me chills," she told them, staring after the soldier. Rick whistled, regarding her with open curiosity. Not that it mattered as no-one could see his face at the moment.

"Ho boy, sounds like I missed out!" he said. Tex shook her head.

"I'm not sure..." she began, then Rick rolled his head and asked, pointedly,

"What color is my armor?" Tex recoiled a little, then inclined her head. Tucker was mystified, but Church understood. Project Red had that effect on people.

/*/

In the Caves, Kai was having a grand time talking with Doc. "So by the time I got home it was four AM, and when my mom asked where I was, I told her I was riding the train all night, which I guess is _technically_ true..." she rattled on. Doc swallowed heavily, though it wasn't picked up by his mics, and said,

"Uh, yeah. We don't have to talk about stuff any more. Let's just walk. And not talk. _Ever again_." Kai shrugged, though she did wonder what _his_ problem was. She turned to look at Tucker's kid, who was trailing behind.

"Come on little guy, hurry up!" she called, waving him on.

"Hnnnk!" Junior noised loudly. Kai, already looking forward again, gasped.

"Oh my Godiva, head," she said, unable to say anything else for the shock.

"Okay, please, really, no more stories," Doc pleaded. If he hadn't been wearing a helmet, he'd have begun massaging his forehead. As it was, he closed his eyes for a moment.

"Seriously, it's a head. Look!" Kai said, stopping and pointing. Doc opened his eyes and followed the line of her arm, finally seeing the dull brown head of Lopez the Heavy.

"Huh?" Doc asked, blinking. How had he gotten down here?

"Hola," Lopez droned.

"Oh. It's you," Doc sighed, the deadpan Spanish confirming it for him.

"Whatever. Some way to treat your sidekick," Spanish!Lopez drawled, "gone for days and you don't even look for me." Kai looked from Doc, to Head, to Doc, to Head, and back to Doc before asking,

"You know him?" Doc blinked and turned to Kai.

"You speak Spanish?" he asked, surprised.

"Uh, of course I do, it's the year twenty-five hundred and I'm from America," Kai answered, rolling her eyes at the stupid question.

"Aoh, cool. Tell him O'Malley is gone," Doc requested, apparently forgetting that Lopez understood English... and could, under the right circumstances, speak English.

"O'Malley no esta aqui ya fue," Kai told the head.

"Your Spanish is horrible," Spanish!Lopez told her. Kai ignored his comment and turned to look at Doc again.

"Who's O'Malley?" she asked. Doc sighed. He _really_ didn't want to tell her about _that guy_. He really wasn't a nice A.I. Not to mention he drew out the darker aspects of Frank DeFrunse the medic had painstakingly buried in his subconscious. ' _I can't go back. I won't go back. Not now, not ever!_ '

/*/

By the time Kai found Lopez and asked about O'Malley, Dex had reached the mouth of the upper cave system. "KAI!" he yelled, plunging in, running the twists and turns with a certainty born of long hours spent training in secret. He didn't worry about bats. He didn't think about snakes. He didn't consider spiders. All he was focused on, was finding his baby sister. His baby sister that didn't think twice about just about _any_ request and would do just about anything. Actually, Dex was fairly sure that even if most people found it impossible, Kai would do it. Or at the very least, try. Even if it meant hurting herself. That thought made Dex push himself even faster. There was no telling what she might get up to in these caves. "KAI!" he bellowed, dread welling in his chest and threatening to choke up his throat. He forced the building panic down, funneling the fear and anger into speed.

/*/

Meanwhile, Rick, Red, and Eagle took up defensive positions around the Base. "You're not getting this totally important Base, Blues," Red yelled at the 'assembled' Blues.

"Uh-huh. Not gonna happen," Rick added, pistol aimed right at Tucker, being the only living member of the attacking force. Seriously, when had they begun fighting nothing but crazed Artificial Intelligence units?

"Why are you over here anyway?" Eagle asked, not bothering to aim at the Blues. Seriously, not even the ex-Freelancer really seemed to want to fight. Tex shrugged and pointed at Church.

"He's the leader," she said by way of explanation. Church turned to her with what Red was fairly sure was supposed to be a glare, but was reduced to a stare by the helmet he was... inhabiting.

"We were told to attack. Also, you have the only vehicle in the canyon capable of hosting the training A.I from our tank. A training A.I who happens to know where O'Malley is. We need it," Church said, having finally turned back to his 'enemies.' The Reds shared looks. "You know where he is too, don't you?" Church asked, resigned. They shrugged.

"Well, we do... and we don't," Rick said. Tex twitched, causing Church to look over in concern.

"Black, huh?" she asked. The Reds nodded and Tex sighed.

"Just so. Way I hear it, there's also a conspiracy with Tucker's kid," Rick said, motioning for them to all sit down. And that... was where things got a little... Wyoming.

/*/

While Dex was running through the caves, Lopez had finished telling Kai and Doc about his misadventure, which ended with him down in the caves, waiting. "So that's how you got here Lopez? What a strange, yet totally believable story," Doc said, operating under Blood Gulch Logic, which wasn't really Reason at all, but Omnisphere. That was when Dex barreled around the corner and glared at them.

"Get. Your hands. _Away_. From. my. _Sister!_ " he growled, stalking toward Doc, who squeaked and quickly scrambled away.

"Dex! What are you doing?" Kai asked, blinking. Seriously, why did he have to do this _every time_? They weren't even doing anything! They were just walking along, talking. Oh, and they found a severed head. That could still talk. And had been host to an evil A.I that had also infected Doc, who seemed to have been the A.I's preferred host for a while. But he was harmless! A pacifist! Non-combative. Sure he could be a bit sarcastic, but hey, so was Dex! And Dex wasn't pushing... okay, so maybe he was pushing her away, but it was probably for a good reason! And not because of the sarcasm thing... she was pretty sure about that.

"You," Dex growled, ignoring his sister for the moment and stalking up to Doc, who was still backing away.

"Me?" Doc asked innocently, pointing to himself... pressed up against the cave wall.

"Yes. You. _You_ took advantage of my sister, didn't you?" Dex growled, rolling his wrists. Doc was now _very_ uncomfortable with the situation. As if he wasn't uncomfortable enough before!

/*/

It was a stand off. Reds on one side, Blues to another, Ex-Freelancer growling somewhere in the middle but closer to the Blues than the Reds, and current Freelancer staring them all down with a gun pointed at them. "How did you escape from Black, Wyoming?" Rick asked, sounding far to conversational.

"Ah... how do you know about that?" Wyoming asked, turning his gun more fully on the maroon soldier. Said soldier tilted his head slightly and chuckled.

"What? Black never told you about her students? I'm insulted," he said, pulling out a knife that was shaped like a claw and spinning it about. "Seriously, it should be obvious... if she mentioned us at all. Then again, Black _does_ like to be a bit of a witch, so~! Yeah. Perhaps I shouldn't be so surprised after all."

"Would you stop that?! It's annoying," Church barked. A different knife went sailing toward his head, narrowly missing. "GAH!" the cobalt soldier screamed, jumping back. Rick snorted.

"Boy, I don't think you're in a good position to tell me what to do," he said, still spinning his short, claw like knife. "Now, Wyoming, why are you here?"

/*/

Back in the Caves, Doc and Kai were surprised, but relieved, when Dex froze and raised a hand to his ear, clearly hearing something important. Or... important to him. A few moments later, Dex growled and shot a look toward Junior. "Right. Rick, keep him occupied. Doc, you and Kai hold this... kid... here. Stay _away_ from bigger aliens, don't trust guys in dark blue armor, and don't you," he pointed at Doc, "touch my sister _at all!_ Unless it's to knock her out of the way of bullets or equally deadly things, like big falling rocks. Or bats. I need to head back to Red Base," he told them before he turned around and ran out of the cave.

"What was that about?" Kai asked. Doc shrugged. How was he supposed to know? He was just glad he survived with his life, a very common thought when faced with an angry Agent Orange.

/*/

Meanwhile, Rick was busy transmitting Wyoming's goal to Dex... and doing his level best to freak at least _one_ of the intruders out. "That's not important," the Freelancer remarked with an air of indifference. Rick threw one of his knives. "Watch it!" Wyoming snapped.

"Oops! Sorry. Hand slipped," Rick said, clearly unrepentant. Wyoming growled and shot at the knife wielding Red. Rick dodged while throwing three more knives at the Freelancer. "That wasn't very nice of you, Wyoming," Rick chided, waggling a finger at the white sniper.

"Who are you?! And what are you doing at a Sim Base!?" Wyoming asked, coming back up from his dodge roll, confused by the skill the maroon one displayed. That was when he noticed that Tex had phased into invisibility. "Oh no, Tex has gone invisible. Whatever shall I do. Fretting, worry," Wyoming drawled, back to his usual confident self.

"Dude, I wouldn't sound so smug. She kicked your ass last time, and you weren't even outnumbered like ya are now," Church remarked as Agent Orange came running up. "Oh, and here comes the Calvary. How do you like that Wyoming? We even have Project Red on our side!"

"Project Red?" Wyoming echoed, helmet turning from what he saw as an orange Sim Trooper to the Blue.

"Yeah. I figured, if I'm turning Project Freelancer's Red Team against them, and I considered it a side project, why not just call it Project Red?" Marly's voice remarked lightly from behind Wyoming. The white Freelancer spun around and fell to the ground.

" _Oregon?!_ " he asked from his prone position on the ground. A figure in gunmetal green armor with dark purple accents and an ODST helmet stood in front of him.

"So glad to see you recognize me now, _Reggie_ ," she drawled, pulling two sticks off her back and connecting them with a crackle of electricity. Wyoming started scooting backwards. "Ah~! So you finally realize it huh?" Creepy, all too familiar laughter came from the figure before she muttered, "It's kind of sad that you can't use your time-displacement unit. So many live training dolls~!" Oregon said, eyes not leaving Wyoming. It was then that the others noticed... her visor was set to clear.

"Man. Now I want one of those," Rick muttered. "It would make my glares so much more effective."

"Now, as loth as I am to steal a _really cool_ scene from the Reds, as well as Tucker, I'm going to have to show you what happens to those who try to double cross me. So sorry, _dear_ Reginald," Oregon drawled, ignoring Rick's comment and kicking Wyoming's gun away. Dex roughly rolled him over, disconnected his time-displacement unit, and wrenched his arms behind him.

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and _will_ be used against you to the _fullest_ extent of the law," the Agent told him, hauling him to his feet. "I expect you to be behind bars for a very, _very_ , long time, _former_ Agent Wyoming," the weapons master growled before marching him into the waiting Pelican. "All yours... Agent Oregon," Dex told his mentor, wondering why she'd gone back to being Oregon. The woman sighed.

"Thanks. I just hope... I just hope this helps. Ya know... in the long run," she said before walking onto the Pelican's ramp. "Oh and, just so you guys know, relocation orders are in the near future. Project Red... I'll be letting you know what I want you to work on before you ship out. And Tex... I have O'Malley with me. He's contained. For now," she said in parting. Tex ran forward to join her on The Phantom and that... was that. They were gone.

"Well... that happened," Tucker said. This set Rick off laughing, almost manically. Dex sighed and shook his head before pushing the time unit into Rick's arms and walking off.

"Well, back to threatening that stupid not-a-medic I go," he said, giving the other Reds, along with the Blues, a lazy wave over his shoulder.

"Think we should help the poor guy?" Rick asked Eagle. The burgundy sniper held up both hands and shook his head.

"Hey man, no way. I'm not getting in Dex's way when he's like this. I'm not suicidal," he said. Rick considered this, then nodded.

"True," he conceded, then turned to the blues. "Eh, don't feel like fighting you guys right now," he said, then walked into Red Base. "Nap time~!" he sang cheerfully. Burgundy nodded and trudged after him.

"Now that... is a plan," he said. The remaining Blues shared a look, shrugged, and went back to their base. They didn't have anything better to do after all.

/*/

"You sure you're okay with this?" Marley asked. Flowdie scoffed, already locking Wyoming into his seat.

"Would you stop that? Yes. I'm sure," he said. Tex growled.

"Can we just go already? You two are starting to get on my nerves," she said. Marley sighed, dropping her head.

"Fine. Just... promise me you'll be careful. We're _all_ wanted by the UNSC," she said. Flowdie shook his head and drew her close, arm around her shoulders and forehead resting against her helmet.

"You worry too much, M'lady. We'll be just fine, you'll see," he told her before whirling around and closing the bay door of Kai's Pelican. Marley let out a weary sigh as the ship lifted off.

"I sure hope so," she muttered, watching them go with worried eyes.

"Marley?" Rick asked softly from the back ramp of Red Base.

"Yeah?"

"I made some tea, thought I'd offer you some." She smiled and turned to the slender soldier.

"Thanks Rick. I'd love some," she said, entering the Base. Rick followed silently, giving her some space. The living area fell silent as she entered, helmet under her arm, and headed for the kitchen. Red's eyes followed her and Eagle looked toward Rick. The I.T. Specialist shook his head and the sniper sat back. Tea in hand and helmet on the counter, Marley turned around with a sad smile to see her Agents all hastily looking away. She chuckled. "Come on guys, I'm not about to snap. Relax!" They shared uneasy looks, saying nothing. Marley scoffed, sat on the couch, and turned on the T.V, settling in to watch the latest Grifball match. Slowly, the men relaxed and before too long, they were all shouting at the athletes and calling fouls, enjoying the show to the fullest. Marley sat back with a happy smile as she sipped her now-cold tea. She felt blessed to have been accepted so fully by a team like this. Two hours later, Dex came back from threatening Doc and went straight to the fridge for a cold root beer.

"Better?" Rick asked with a quirked eyebrow as the larger man relaxed in his armchair.

"Much. Doc received new orders and left," he said, though the predatory gleam in his eye said there was more to it.

"Think he'll faint if he ever sees you again?" Marley asked. Dex chuckled evilly.

"I don't think he'll even have to see me," he said. The others sighed and shook their head at him while Marley cackled and clapped him on the back with a creepily wide grin.

"I've taught you well, my student. I've taught you well," she said. The others edged away from them. Slowly. A few rounds of Spades later and Marley waved the Reds good bye, there was another Grif she had to see.

/*/

Kai was staring out at the canyon, thinking about how her life had changed, when she heard someone come up behind her. "So... Dex's little sister right?" Tucker's voice asked. Kai turned, putting on her usual cheery manner.

"Yep! That's me!" she said, turning around. She was rather glad to find that Tucker had removed his helmet as Church was standing beside him. They both looked a little anxious.

"What was he like? Before he joined the army?" Tucker's asked, shifting in a slightly nervous manner. Kai blinked.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because he's one of the scariest soldiers in this forsaken dust bin," he told her. She took off her helmet to play with her hair while she bit her lip.

"Well... He... he always looked out for me. Especially after Mom left to join the circus," she said, missing the look the two men shared at that. "He... he was lazy, and a total slob, but he kept on me. Made sure I was home by ten, going out to hunt me down if I wasn't and drag me home if need be. He wouldn't let me do a lot of the things he did. Told me he didn't want me making his mistakes. Said he meant to stop when he didn't need those habits anymore. But he didn't stop. He did it all _more_. More cigarettes, more beer, more theft, more over-eating..." she trailed off with a slight shiver. "And he was always rude, and loud, and acted like he didn't care... but I know better," she stood up a bit straighter and looked her new teammates in the eyes, "I know that he's smarter than he acts, that he cares deeper than he shows, that if it was between him and me... he'd choose me. I know that he'll always look out for me. I know that, no matter what I do, he'll always love me and pick me back up. He'd do his best to save me, even if it meant he'd get hurt." There were tears trickling down her face now, she could feel them. Tucker was starting to look alarmed, shock the only thing keeping him in his place. "So what if he's scary? Maybe... maybe he has to be! Maybe... maybe... he's found someone in this canyon he wants to protect. My brother... he's a big brother through and through, with all the protective instincts of a bear!" Kai declared heatedly. The men took a half step back.

"Wow," Tucker breathed, staring at her, "you really love your brother, don't you?" he asked, though he didn't seem to require an answer. Kai felt her face flush, and quickly slammed her helmet back into place. No amount of hair twisting would justify showing such vulnerability.

/*/

Tucker, for all that her brother scared him witless, found himself completely enamored by Kai. She was happy, perky, excitable... and yet, she held such deep feelings for her brother. She loved like no-one Tucker had ever met and he found himself wishing to make her look at him the way she had as she described her brother. He wanted to make her smile that beautiful smile she wore when she spoke of how much Dex loved her. ' _And I bet he doesn't even know how lucky he is, crazy Red_ ,' Tucker thought, still staring at the drop dead gorgeous Grif. She had slightly wavy light brown hair and mesmerizing amber eyes, a tint darker than her brother's. "So... we need to make sure you can tell who's who around here," Church said as a black figure came bounding up to them.

"Ah! Sorry for the intrusion mates! I'm just here for Kai!" the figure said, clearly female.

"Marley," Church said with a nod, though Tucker thought he sounded a little... irritated. The newcomer tilted her head.

"You seem tense, Church. Problems in paradise?" she asked, voice lightly teasing.

"Just... just take the girl," Church said, turning away and heading back into the base.

"So... you're Marley huh?" Tucker asked, looking her up and down. Her armor looked a lot like Tex's, only with a gray visor and maroon accents. "What did you do to Church to get him to react like _that?_ "

"What do you mean? Isn't that how he always is?" Marley asked, tilting her head. Tucker chuckled, but shook his head.

"Yeah, but he usually argues too. This time, he didn't. What's up?" Marley hummed.

"Ya know... I can see it," she remarked, sounding almost pensive as her helmet tilted down then back up.

"Huh?" Tucker asked, totally confused. "See what?" he added, taking another half-step back. What was with the girls in this canyon and putting him off balance?

"How you could actually manage to become a decent soldier," Marley said before turning to Kai. "You, on the other hand, need some serious work young lady. Your brother asked me to train you, to teach you everything you need to know, and that's just what I promised him I'd do. Follow me, and we'll get started, Miss Grif," she said, motioning to another Pelican that had just decloaked.

"WHOA!" Tucker shouted, jumping back and bringing his rifle up. Marley chuckled, causing his face to heat. "Not. Funny," he grit out.

"Ya-yeah, it is. You should have seen how high you jumped!" Marley laughed, then dragged Kai aboard the ship and flew off. Tucker was left staring in shock. What the heck just happened?! It was like there was some sort of Blood Gulch Law, 'All women must make no sense and throw Private Tucker for a loop.' Oh, and don't forget the, 'All women must hate Tucker' law that seemed to be in effect just about everywhere. Now dispirited as well as totally confused, Tucker went inside to see if they had any ice cream. Heck, he'd settle for some cookies.

/*/

Meanwhile, Kai was staring at Marley. "So... you're telling me... you trained my brother?" she asked slowly, back firmly to the video screen that was showing her brother's first meeting with Marley.

"Yes," the woman said, nodding firmly.

"And you're the reason he's all weird now?"

"I wouldn't say weird, but yeah. I'm the one who broke him out of his apathy. Lit a fire under him, so to speak," Marley answered with a shrug and a smile.

"And he asked you to train me?"

"Among other things, yes."

"Can you go over the explanation again?" Marley sighed. Heavily.

"Ya know what? How about we just run some of the training vids and read over a few mission logs?" she said, then pulled up one of the aforementioned logs. "This... was your brother's first mission with me. He was a month out of basic, and I needed some back-up on a low-risk mission. I picked him up, carried him off, and gave him a refresher on weapons maintenance before we landed. He killed seven Grunts, three Banshees, and helped me bring down a Phantom class dropship. Of his seven kills, four of them were head shots. He said he hated me when we were done, but before he left, he thanked me," she summarized as Kai read the log. There were two pictures that Marley had pulled up to accompany the log. One at the beginning, when Dex had ripped off his helmet, and one when he was passed out on the floor, sweaty and bleeding.

"He did?" Kai asked, looking up at the nodding Marley.

"He did. This is the next time I picked him up," she told the younger girl, pulling up the security feed from when Dex received his armor. Kai noticed that her brother seemed more... confident, more comfortable in his own skin, than he had in the first pictures. "And the second mission." A fresh mission log appeared on the screen and Kai read about how her brother saved a platoon of stranded marines. A video of Dex learning First Aid. Pistol training. Staffs. Rifles. Knives. Mini-guns. Jeeps. Tanks. Even the Pelican. He failed, he fell, but he got up and tried again. And again. And again. _And_ _ **again**_. And he got better... no. He got _great_. He saved marines, he saved Freelancers, he blew up bases, he lead other Agents, and he even _trained_ other Agents. And then the recording of when Dex called Marley played. Kai was crying, she could feel the tears streaming down her face... but she couldn't stop.

"He..." she gasped out when the call was done. Marley came up beside her and laid a hand on her shoulder. She didn't say anything, she was just there. "He thought... I'd be scared of him? That I'd h-hate him?" Kai asked, turning to the woman beside her. Marley nodded solemnly.

"I told him he was an idiot, but he didn't believe me. But I think, in the end, he decided that, even if you feared him, even if you hated him, he wouldn't let how much it hurt him show. Not to you. And he'd keep on looking out for you, the way he has practically all his life. I could have told him you were coming, you know," she said.

"Then why didn't you?" Kai asked. Marley shrugged.

"I wanted to see how he'd react. And, I gotta be honest here, he actually reacted better than I thought he would. I had honestly thought he would just knock you out, put you on the ship, program the auto-pilot to take you to Earth, and send you on your merry little way," she told the young girl.

"Maybe he should have," Kai whispered, looking away and through the window. Marley smiled softly and wrapped an arm around the girl's shoulders.

"Maybe, but then again... maybe not," she said. Kai turned to her sharply, eyes wide. "Remember, he said that this might be just what you needed. It was what he needed, as you can plainly see," Marley went on, motioning toward the last video, which was looping without sound. It was the day Marley had given her Agents the day off. They were all sitting around the table, eating chips and playing cards. Dex was laughing, looking completely at ease and natural around the other men and in his armor. Kai had to admit, it was the happiest she'd ever seen her brother. "So, what do you say? You want to give this whole soldier thing a try?" Kai grit her teeth and straightened her shoulders, turning to face Marley with sharp, fierce determination burning in her eyes.

"When do I start?" she asked. Marley gave her a sharp smile, one that promised pain and suffering, and said one word. One word that sent shivers of fear and panic and exhilaration down Kai's spine.

"Now."

/*/

Church sighed as, for the third time, Tucker sighed longingly, staring at where the Pelican carrying Kai had vanished. "Tucker... stop. Please," he asked. "What's so different about this one anyway?"

"Aside from the fact she has a scary big brother who would do anything for her?" Tucker asked, turning to his Team Leader. "She's beautiful, she's spunky, she's genuine, and seems like a caring girl." Church stared at him for a moment.

"Yeah, she's also a female Caboose who says the craziest things," Church said. Tucker sighed and turned back to staring into blank space.

"Maybe, but... she's nice. Compared at all the other girls I've come in contact with lately." Church couldn't help agreeing. Marley was cool, but could be just as scary as Tex. And that was on a good day. What he didn't know was he'd met her when she was on a sort of vengeance high and it _wasn't_ exactly a good day. He didn't know he had yet to see a good day for Marley. But, that's a story for another time. Onward!

"Fine. Just... please, stop staring at nothing. If you need to stare, stare in the direction of the caves. We've already been invaded from that direction," Church said, turning to leave.

"Hnnk!" Tucker Jr. noised.

"Oh, and keep your abomination out of my way. Wouldn't want my finger slipping and accidentally shooting it in the head," Church added, shooting the alien a look before continuing inside. Tucker sighed, dropping a hand on his rapidly growing son's head.

"Don't take it personally, Junior. He's always like that," he muttered absentmindedly.

"Blarg," Junior noised, rubbing his head into his father's hand. They're relationship was odd, considering their differences, but Junior actually did feel love for his father. His Sanghillie parent was a non-entity, even if Junior didn't know how to form that as a word, but his human one was alright. A little flighty, but at least he cared. Tucker looked down at his son and smiled slightly.

"I sure hope Kai likes you," he said softly, before he returned his attention to the rest of the canyon.

"Blarrrg!" Junior enthused, butting his head against his father's hand again. He liked the strange yellow one, and he thought she'd be good for his silly human father. Yellow made Daddy happy, and Junior liked it when Daddy was happy. He hoped Yellow would come back soon.

/?/

A/N: Yeah. It's kinda short. But... yeah. I just... couldn't drag this out further.

On another note, should Dex use Wyoming's Time-displacement unit, or hang it up?

A/N 2: Okay, so, several edits were made to fit a new continuity that makes things a bit better, as far as story goes. Also, Junior is still in Blood Gulch. As for the time-displacement unit, Dex is going to hang onto it and learn how to use it, but only as a last resort, like someone close to him dieing last resort. When they reach the Freelancer off site storage he might pick up a different armor enhancement. That's a ways in the future though, so I have time to decide if he gets one and if he does, which one. Drop a review on your way out with a suggestion! 8/25/16


	35. Episode 33

A/N 1: So, I got a guest review that was just too good not to comment on. **RandomManGaming** , I'm not too sure what you meant by Dex being less 'harass' if he used the time unit, but I will agree not to have him use it. There would be far too many Doctor Who references slipped in, even if the variety was a little limited by my not having watched the show in a while. I'm an American without cable, alright?

As for RandomManGaming's second 'point', I, myself, would be a _horrible_ choice for training Caboose. I might be able to get him to roll over and/or play dead by substituting cookies for doggie biscuits, but that's about it. Also, Marley is far more focused on her boys and will not be training the Blues. That said, there are more characters coming and Caboose will get training before Chorus(. If I had worked this element in earlier... hee~! Oh, the fun I could have with a fully trained Micheal J. Caboose! *Descends into maniacal laughter, evil hand wringing, and darkly gleeful mutterings involving spiked kittens and red bull.* Whoo! I'm back! Man, Competent!Caboose-land is creepy! And yet, oh so fun...

Anyway, a great big thank you to RandomManGaming, whoever you are, for the input and the glowing reviews. My muse eats input for breakfast, and Glowing Reviews for dessert. Did you know, I'm fairly sure that's where most of the fluff I write comes from? Yikes! This has gotten super long! Right. Onward, to what you really came here to read!

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB.

 **Episode 33:** Good Bye Blood Gulch

Flowdie and Tex arrived at the coordinates for the closest UNSC judicial base, but what they found was... "Okay, who did this? Who did this?! I want names, I want ranks, I want gosh darn _dental records!_ " Flowdie snarled, slamming his hands down on the console, glaring at the floating scrap yard that was once a space station. Wyoming started laughing and, in his aggravated state, Flowdie decided, "Ya know, we don't really need him _alive_ for this. We just need his helmet intact."

"What?" Wyoming asked, nervous of the magnum that was now aimed at his neck.

"One more sound out of you, and my finger might just _slip_ and send a bullet flying through your windpipe," the former Agent Florida growled. Wyoming settled down after that. "Now, we just need..." Flowdie began, before an explosion rocked their ship. "Sons of ballistas!" he spat, grabbing the controls once more and jumping to slip-space. "Okay, that bought us some time, but it won't do much for us. Tex, I have to ask... do you want to live?" Tex stared at the former Agent Florida... and let out a long, tired, sigh.

"You know what I really am, don't you?" she asked. Her companion nodded solemnly. Wyoming was confused, but decided it would be better to watch how this little drama played out before he said anything.

"You're Beta, an A.I. fragment based on the Director's late wife... and the mother of Carolina," Flowdie said. Wyoming felt his eyes go wide. Tex was Carolina's _mother?!_ Suddenly, a lot of things about the aqua Freelancer, and her 'working' relationship with Tex, made a bit more sense. But wait, if Allison was the Director's wife...

"She must have gotten all her skill from her mother," Reggie said before he could catch himself. Slowly, both of the other occupants of the ship turned to give him a bland stare.

"Oh. So the Director couldn't shot the broad side of a barn even if he were using a sniper rifle? Man, how did he ever end up with a woman like Allison?" Flowdie remarked. Tex chuckled.

"Hard as it is to believe, Leonard could be tender, caring, and genuinely funny. He was a dork, don't get me wrong, and he was also a jerk, but... somewhere along the line... he became _my_ dorky jerk," she said, sounding almost fond. Flowdie sighed.

"It is hard to believe. And I'm still waiting on that answer," he said. Tex sighed again.

"Why can't he let me go?" she asked.

"As a guy, I can tell you with utter confidence... it was because he loved you more than life itself," Flowdie told her. She twitched.

"You have someone you can't let go of as well, don't you," she remarked. Flowdie nodded.

"Marley, the Surgeon of Death," he said.

"If she died..." Tex prompted. Flowdie chuckled mirthlessly, shaking his head at the A.I.

"I'd never be the same, but I wouldn't try to bring her back. She makes a habit of saying goodbye... without actually saying goodbye," Flowdie said. Tex chuckled as well, though it was a melancholy sound.

"You're a better man than Church," she told him, both of them ignoring the sharp in-take of breath from Wyoming as yet more pieces fell into place.

"Again, still waiting for an answer. Do you want to live?"

"Am I even alive enough to die?" Tex asked, looking at her robotic hands.

"There's a loaded question if ever I heard one," Flowdie remarked, faintly amused, before pulling out a data chip and playing with it as he considered his next words carefully. "Tex... I don't know what to tell you. As an A.I, even if a fragmented A.I, you could be considered a live program, but as a person... You're barely even a shadow of your former self. The last thing the Director, and now the Alpha and all his fragments, remember of Allison is that she died. She failed. And now... that's all he, they, can focus on. It effects you severely, that negative memory. But even if you're based on remembered failure, there's a chance you could progress from it, become your own person. Still, if you stick around, Church is just going to continue obsessing about you, chasing you. Neither of you will find rest. The choice to stick around as an incomplete A.I. or move on to a memory is entirely yours," her told her seriously. Wyoming was lamenting the lack of popcorn. This was better than daytime television.

"It's time for Leonard to move on," Tex decided. Flowdie nodded and handed her the chip. "What's this?" she asked, considering it curiously.

"That... is a virus. Load it into your armor and not only will it delete all resident programs, it'll mess with the equipment of anyone who tried to loot your armor. Not too much, but it'll still cause problems," he told her. She didn't hesitate to slot the disk into place. "Rest in peace, Allison," Flowdie said, a moment before the robot deactivated. "Well. That's one head ache dealt with. Not too sure how _well_ it was dealt with, but it's dealt with. Now for the other one," Flowdie said, turning toward Wyoming. "I never did like you."

"Who are you?" Wyoming asked. The man chuckled and took off the helmet.

"I had thought it was obvious by now, Reggie. I'm Butch Flowers, former Agent Florida. We have much to discuss," he said, sitting in a chair across from the white armored soldier with a seemingly lazy smile.

"I don't think we do," Wyoming shot back. Flowdie scoffed, that easy smile turning to a cold stare and disdainful sneer.

"Sure we do. Such as... why did you turn on Marley? Do you really want to take orders from aliens? Do you really want O'Malley as leader of an aggressive race hell bent on activating the HALOs and wiping out all human life in the universe, regardless of how many other species will be wiped out? Is that what you want to be your legacy?" he said. Wyoming looked away, deeply buried conscious wincing at the rather valid points his former protege was bringing up. Again.

"Agent Washington isn't the only one with scars, Florida," he said softly, then looked back at his interrogator, "he's just terrible at hiding them." Flowide shook his head.

"I know, Wyoming. Believe me, I do, but are you going to let the tortured fragment of an A.I. based off the Director dictate your life? Or do you want to be something more?" he asked. "I can't guarantee fame or fortune, but The Phantoms are a lot better that Project Freelancer."

"We'll see," Wyoming said. Flowdie shook his head again and looked toward where the Elites, and O'Malley, were being held.

"Do you know what it feels like to have all the rage and hate of the Director in your head, Reginald?" he said, speaking more to himself than his prisoner. "It's like being a passenger in your own body while someone else's fury is leading you. It feels like fire and ice and madness raging through your blood, pounding in your head, and turning the world a pulsing purple. No clue why Rage is purple and Ambition and Creativity is red, but there you are."

"What do you hope to accomplish with this?" Wyoming asked, drawing Flowdie's attention back to him.

"I hope... that I don't have to put a bullet in your brain," Flowdie remarked coldly. Wyoming felt a shiver go down his back. He had never known Florida to be so... ruthless. "But like I said, I'm hoping to avoid that. You're a decent sniper, Reggie, and once you put aside the knock knock jokes and casual sadism, you aren't bad company. Better than O'Malley at any rate." Wyoming sighed.

"If I said this wasn't what I wanted, what would you do?" he asked, his callous mask cracking and the tormented man beneath showing through, even if only for a moment. It was all the encouragement the bleeding heart in Flowdie needed.

"I'd fake your death, hand over your armor to the UNSC, get you a new name, a new file, and let you decide what you do with your clean slate," he said with a shrug. Wyoming looked down for a moment, then pulled off his helmet and stared at it.

"The orange one took Gary. And my time unit," he said. Flowdie shrugged.

"So? You're still you. Still a darn good marksman. Still British. Do you honestly want them back?" he asked. Wyoming looked up and gave the other man a flat look. Even his mustache looked indignant. "Okay... how are you making your _facial hair_ look indignant? Because that, my friend, is a neat little trick," Flowdie asked, pointing at the sniper. Reggie chuckled.

"Even I'm not too sure, Butch," he said, then tossed the helmet to the other ex-Freelancer. "And no. I don't want it back. I've grown complacent, reliant on the two edged tools Freelancer gave me. And besides," here he gave a weary, self-deprecating smile, "they're part of Agent Wyoming, and I'm _tired_ of being that man." Flowdie chuckled, tossing the helmet behind him.

"Alright then. Now we just need to fake your death," he said. Reggie chuckled, leaning back and finally feeling... free.

/*/

The Blues were demoralized. No wait, that wasn't quite right.

Church was more of a robot than usual, Tucker was busy with his kid, and Caboose was, well, Caboose.

Needless to say, there was nothing the Reds really _needed_ to be doing, and attacking the Blues just felt like kicking somebody's puppy or in Church's case, their _sick_ puppy. So yeah, they weren't thinking about fighting the Blues. Especially since Kai was part of their team, even if Marley had taken the girl for a week long training session. And because of the aforementioned training session, Dex didn't feel like doing much of anything. In fact, he was curled up on his bed, hugging his knees, in the dark, and looking like a pile of angst and woe. Yeah, it was bad. Someone knocked on his door and the Hawaiian hunkered further down in his bed, willing them to go away. "Sorry Dex, but the Death Aura doesn't work so well on me. Works even worse when there's a door between us," Rick's voice said. Dex growled. "Better, but still not gonna get rid of me big guy. Come on, you've been holed up in there for the last four days! You haven't eaten or drunk anything in that time. I'm not even sure if you've used the bathroom! Come on, do you want Kai to come back to see you like this?" Oh~ho, that was low, using the Little Sister card like that. Dex was going to bury him.

"No," he muttered, trying to ooze even further into his bed. He heard a scoff from the door and just _knew_ Rick had his arms crossed while he glared at the door.

"I didn't think so. I'll make you some tea and toast, you get a shower," Rick said, voice deathly calm. Dex groaned. He really didn't want to get up, but Rick had a point. And not doing what Rick said when he used _that_ tone was just _asking_ for trouble. Like, forcing the door open and dragging him out kicking and screaming trouble. Or itching powder in the air vents and routed to his room trouble, which, when he thought about it, was much more likely. Not liking those options, Dex gave in and got up.

"Fine! I'm up!" he snapped.

"Good boy! Now take your shower and I'll set the water to boil," Rick said in a smug, condescending tone that told Dex the tech was smirking at his door. Groaning, the weapons expert stumbled into the bathroom that was so kindly attached to his rooms and took a shower. He noticed his hair was getting a bit long as he finished washing it, so once he was done with his shower, he left his shirt off and pulled out his scissors. Quick, sure snips and in only two minutes, he had a high and tight cut that was still wild enough to not look like a freshly mowed lawn. Giving his reflection a nod, Dex brushed the hair off his shoulders and donned his shirt, reaching the kitchen just as Rick was putting a plate of toast on the table.

"Well well, look who's alive," Eagle teased. Dex shot him a glare before falling heavily into his chair.

"Ha ha, very funny Frank," he muttered, picking up a slice of toast and biting into it. "Um hum! I didn't know toast could taste this good. Thanks, Rick."

"No problem!" Rick said, setting down a mug of tea.

"Knock Knock!" came a voice from the ramp. Dex twitched, forcefully reminded of Gary's incessant jokes. He looked up just in time to see his sister come around the corner. Watching her carefully, Dex slowly sat up straighter, bracing himself. "Hey, Orange," the young woman said. The others all turned to look at Dex for his reaction.

"Kai..." Dex whispered, fear and pain quivering in that one, whispered, word. Sweat began to bead on his paler than normal forehead as he waited for his sister to say something, anything.

"Marley told me," Kai said, playing with her fingers. Dex sighed, bowing his head to hide his expression. That motion was telling enough. He was terrified.

"And?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"You're an idiot," Kai said decisively as she walked confidently toward him. Rick snorted, Eagle coughed into his fist, covering a smile, and Red declared,

"Been saying it fer years!"

"Why do you say that?" Dex asked, ignoring the others and keeping his head down. Kai remained silent as she plonked down across from Dex and stared at him for a moment. Finally, he raised his head, meeting her eyes.

"Did you really believe I'd hate you for what you've done? For what you've become?" she asked, sounding almost affronted that he'd even think such a thing, much less believe it. Dex swallowed, a muscle in his jaw twitching. His eyes didn't leave her face. "Dex... I'm proud of you, of what you've accomplished," Kai said at length. Dex's eyes widened.

"You... you're proud of me?" he asked softly. Kai nodded.

"You've become a hero, Dex. You even went into the caves, willingly. And more than once! You've dropped into the middle of active war zones and brought most, if not all, the men out alive," she said, stopping to shake her head. There was more, a lot more, but she didn't know if she could handle listing it all without tearing up. "The things you've accomplished are amazing. So yes, I'm proud of you Dex. I can tell you've even stopped smoking and at least cut back on the beer," she said. Dex flushed slightly and looked away. "Hey! Enough of that! I thought Marley had instilled some sort of confidence into you."

"She did. It's just... not even Marley's training to prepare me for that," Dex said softly, rubbing a hand over his eyes. Eagle was the only one to notice the wry smile and the faint glistening of tears hidden by that large, calloused hand. "I'm sorry, Kai." That had the other Reds blinking. What?

"Why?" Kai asked, unwittingly giving voice to the thought running through the minds of her brother's teammates.

"I couldn't keep you safe. And then I left. I wasn't there when you needed me," Dex said, face still buried in his hand. Kai smirked with a wry chuckle.

"You couldn't have stopped me, Dex. You've never really been able to stop me. Not when I've got my mind set on something. It's a family trait," she said. Dex dropped his hand with a wry chuckle of his own

"Did you know? You're the only one who can do this to me," he said, lips still twisted into a sad mockery of a smile, silent tears rolling down his melancholic face. Kai's mouth opened in a silent gasp. Even when they were children, Dex rarely cried and as they grew older, it was almost as if he lost the ability to cry.

"What did I do this time?" she asked softly, staring him in the eye. He gave another short wry laugh.

"Well, for one thing, you absolved me of the guilt that I felt. For another... I was so, so scared that you'd hate me. Fear me. I... I didn't want to lose you, Kai. You're the most important person in my life," he told her. Kai chuckled, shaking her head.

"We're both real, messed up, twisted pieces of work, aren't we?" she asked. Dex let out a real, booming laugh, leaning his chair back so far his team were concerned he'd fall. Kai wasn't worried though. She was grinning. Dex's chair fell back into place with a booming _THUD!_ and he leaned forward, grinning his lopsided grin with bright eyes.

"Guess it's a family trait," he said, amusement heavy in his voice. Kai laughed as well, eyes bright with amusement.

"So, I'm guessing you've got quite a few stories," she said, grinning her own puckish grin.

"Oh-ho, like you wouldn't believe," her brother said with a chuckle, standing and motioning toward the couch. The siblings spent the rest of the day talking about old times, training mishaps, and happy memories. The Reds were quick to note the rather unsettling lack of happy family memories. Silently, they agreed they'd help remedy that. After all, they were all brothers-in-arms, what difference was a sister?

/*/

Marley, being the stalker that she was, had stuck around. Having heard what she needed, and being pleased with the resolution of the current Grif family drama, she withdrew when they moved to more comfortable seating. "Well, that actually went better than I was expecting," she said to herself. "To be honest, I was expecting more shouting and self recrimination." She returned to The Ghost and fiddled with a few things, then gave up distracting herself and called Flowdie. Or... tried to anyway. She frowned when the call wouldn't connect. That meant one of two things. One, they were in slip-space or two, their ship was damaged. How damaged was up for debate, but still. It was cause for concern. She shook her head and called Red, knowing that worrying would get her nowhere fast.

"What?" he said softly.

"Something's up. I'm heading out and I'm not sure when I'll be back. If your orders arrive before I do... I want you to stay here. An old acquaintance of mine will be dropping by and I want one of you ready for him. Plus, Kai isn't leaving so I'd like someone to watch out for her while I'm out. She'll be all alone if you don't stay. Oh yeah, and by going AWOL, you allow Dex to get promoted to Sargent," Marley rattled off, preparing to enter slip-space.

"Understood. That promotion's past due anyway," Red said. Marley froze, then blinked, then held a hand to her radio.

"I'm sorry, could you say that again?" she asked slowly. Surely she'd heard that wrong. This was Sarge, talking about Grif!

"I said, Dex is past due for a promotion," Red repeated. Marley sat down heavily, eyes wide in disbelief. She hadn't heard wrong. Red actually wanted to see Dex promoted.

"You, Red Sargent Sarge, think Private Dexter Grif deserves to be promoted?" she asked, still having trouble believing it. Red sighed and Marley idly wondered if he was shaking his head at her.

"Yes. And Rick Simmons while we're at it. Eagle... not so much. Kid's got some growing to do first," Red told his training officer. Marley shook her head again.

"Okay. Not expecting that. Um... right. I'm... just gonna... go. Now. Bye!" she said, then shut the connection. "Right. That happened," she said to herself, taking off for the last known co-ordinates of the one man who had never given up on her.

/*/

Back in Red Base, Red blinked, shrugged, and went to gather up the supplies he'd need to prepare a proper welcome for Marley's 'old acquaintance.' He chuckled as he rummaged in his storage unit. Oh yeah, they were going to have fun while everyone was out. "Rick... Red's worrying me," Eagle told his companion. Rick hummed in agreement.

"A chuckling Red is indeed cause for concern. Especially if he's rummaging in _that_ closet," he said, noticing that the closet in question was what he'd come to call the Invention Closet of Doom, ICD for short.

"Should we warn the Grifs?" Eagle asked.

"Nah. Red's Invention of Doom shouldn't be ready until tomorrow at the earliest. Let them have their sibling bonding time," Rick said, waving the idea aside for the moment. "In the mean time, help me grab the soda. And the beer while we're at it. Sometimes, it's best just to wait it out in a nice, quite, re-enforced concert room with a five inch thick titanium door."

"I'll grab the incendiary rounds," Eagle said, deadpan, as he headed toward storage. Rick blinked and then turned around toward the retreating sniper.

"We have those?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"I do," Eagle said, as casually as though he were talking about the weather.

"When did you get those?" Rick asked, voice going up the smallest of increments, as he hurried to follow the sniper.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Eagle remarked smugly. Rick was fairly certain he was smirking a smug, self-satisfied smirk.

"Yes, I very much would," Rick retorted calmly, stepping into his teammate's path, crossing his arms over his chest, and staring the sniper down.

"You want some, don't you?" Eagle stated.

"Heck yeah. And so will Dex. He's all about that zombie apocalypse thing," Rick confirmed with a nod and a wave. The sniper grinned.

"I'll see what I can do, but I might not get them to you guys before you have to leave for your new posts. Maybe I can forward them?" Eagle said, trailing off, tapping a finger against his chin as he wandered off in the general direction of storage. Rick shook his head and split off to go after those drinks. He really wasn't kidding about those preparations. Do not underestimate the terror of a Red Invention of Doom! Weather control device and ten megaton bomb anyone?

/*/

At the other end of the canyon, Tucker was playing ball with Junior when Church came running out screaming. Like, raw throat, arms waving, legs pumping, oh-my-gosh-it's-the-end-of-the-world, there's-a-giant-bug-in-the-sink, running and screaming. "Whoa, dude, what's up with you?" the slightly more sane Blue asked.

"It's Kai!" Church said, and those two words sent a sliver of ice through Tucker's heart.

"What happened?" he asked, voice quiet and deathly calm.

"She's not here! Dex is going to kill us all! Repent! Repent!" Church screamed, falling to his knees and holding his head in his hands. Tucker sighed, palming his helmet.

"Did you try hailing her?" he asked.

"YES! All I got was muffled voices!" the panicked 'ghost' responded. Tucker was fairly sure that, had Church still been human, he'd have been pulling at his hair. In any other situation, Tucker would have found it funny. As it was, this situation had a vengeful Dex raining death down on them if they couldn't find his sister. Not a funny set of circumstances.

"I'm gonna try again, just in case" Tucker said, and called Kai's helmet.

"And then, and then! Dex got his hand stuck!" her voice said, though it was muffled and distorted, as though he was getting the audio from her external mics.

"KAI! I thought we agreed never to speak of that again!" Dex's voice said. Was he... _sulky?!_ Wow. That was a new tone for him.

"Oh come on! That's, like, three-fourths of our childhood!" Kai retorted, sounding both perky and pouty. How was _that_ possible?

"Why do you think I never talked about my past?" Dex said, most likely crossing his arms.

"You're such a kid," Kai said, clearly amused, though she tried to sound mocking.

"Yeah... so?" Dex retorted, and Tucker disconnected.

"She's fine," he deadpanned.

"You sure?" Church asked, fretting. Like, seriously fretting. Hand wringing, nervous glances, short breath, the whole nine yards.

"Yeah dude. She's good," Tucker said, going back to playing with Junior. "Why don't you go... make sure Caboose isn't ordering things off the TV again?"

"You're right. We should get rid of the phone," Church said, heading back inside.

"We have radios built into our helmets!" Tucker reminded him.

"I'll cancel the long distance plan!" Church shot back, still heading inside.

/*/

The next day, relocation orders came and there was much weeping and gnashing of teeth. "Finally! I'm getting out of here!" Dex yelled, supporting the weeping Rick. Eagle snorted, shaking his head.

"Yeah, celebrate while you can. It won't be long before The Curse hits and something crazy starts happening basically every five minutes," he said. Dex turned a baleful look on the sniper while Rick fell to the floor, weeping even more heavily, though now for a different reason.

"Had to rain on our parade, didn't you?" Dex asked the unrepentant sniper.

"Yup. And while you guys get to go to an actual base, I'm getting sent to a bunker. A bunker! At least Marley can come and get me out, but still!" Eagle protested.

"And since I'm staying here, Dex gets a promotion straight to Sargent," Red revealed, walking past with the holy grail of coffee lovers. The Jumbo Coffee.

"Hey, where'd you get the coffee?" Dex asked, completely ignoring the rather anti-climatic declaration of his promotion and trailing after his not-really-CO in a quest for the Jumbo Coffee. Rick and Eagle turned to each other and blinked twice.

"Were they always like this?" Eagle asked, jerking his head back toward where Red and Dex had vanished. Rick shook his head.

"No. Sarge used to try to kill Grif at least once a day. Barring that, he'd try to completely demoralized the guy." Eagle stared at Rick in shock. Rick, for his part, nodded with a nostalgic sigh. "Good times."

"... You're insane," the sniper finally got out. The IT geek turned to him with a crocked grin, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

"All the best people are, Rookie. All the best people are," he said before vanishing into the base to pack his things.

" _Keep yer greasy hands off my coffee Private!_ " Red shouted from somewhere behind Eagle.

"My hands aren't greasy. They're well moisturized," Dex countered. "Now, where did you get the Jumbo Coffee?"

" _Grif!_ " Red growled, obviously gnashing his teeth.

"Time to go." Eagle watched as Dex swiftly made his way _out_ of the base, carefully cradling a mug of coffee so large, it wouldn't have been remiss to call it a tankard as he did so. Red was hot on his heels, brandishing his shotgun and shouting insults. Eagle decided, it would be a good idea to retreat to his room and double check his pack. *BOOM! 'CAREFUL! You nearly hit my coffee!' 'It's my coffee, Dirtbag!' * Ye~ah... he was sure there was _something_ he'd forgotten to pack.

/*/

At the other end of the canyon, Blue Base had also received relocation orders."No, Caboose. You can't see my orders," Church said for the millionth time.

"But! But! But how will I send you letters? And care packages? I won't know where you are!" Caboose protested, bouncing around his leader and, so he claimed, best friend like some sort of giant, blue, puppy with an assault rifle and a history of team killing. Just... just think about that for a moment. Puppy Commando, Caboose Edition. Terrifying, isn't it?

"That's the point, Caboose," the cobalt soldier said, snapping his trunk shut, oblivious to the rambling narrator envisioning a Puppy Commando!Caboose and implanting the idea into whoever actually bothered to read about a bunch of crazy lucky idiots stuck in a box canyon in the middle of nowhere. Or, a bunch of crazy, lucky, idiots. Both versions are true, but it's the semantics that's different. Is it the seman...

"Dude, why do you even have a trunk? I got dropped off with nothing but my armor and a single duffel!" Tucker remarked, staring at the quite frankly overly large piece of luggage. Darn Tucker. He interrupted my needless, arbitrary musings. Bad Tucker, bad!

"You know what they say: if it worth doing, it's worth over doing," Church said, sitting on his trunk and holding up a single finger in the classical instructor pose.

"I don't think that's..." Tucker began, brow furrowed as he attempted to process what Church was doing.

"Shut up. Of course it is," Church said, cutting Tucker off with a wave.

"Yes. That is it," Caboose said, reading Church's orders. "Wait. What is what?" the simple soldier asked, looking up from said orders. After having committed them to memory. Seriously, for as damaged as his mind no doubt was from having a ticked off A.I couple declare open season on a third A.I inside his head, Caboose had an amazing memory.

"You're a fudging idiot, ya know that Caboose?" Tucker asked as Church yelped and snatched his orders back from Caboose. How had the idiot even gotten them in the first place? Church was sure he'd packed those already!

"We have fudge? Why did no-one tell me we had fudge!? I demand fudge," Caboose said, looking around for fudge. Tucker sighed, palming his helmet.

"I'm surrounded by stupid," he lamented while walking out to do his own packing.

"Hey, Church?" Kai called from their kitchen where the mail was still laid out on the counter. Tucker paused to listen in.

"What?" Church answered.

"Did you happen to see if there was anything for me?" Kai asked. "Like... relocation orders?" The men of blue Team froze, then looked toward the door.

"You uh... you don't see any?" Church called back.

"No." Tucker and Church exchanged a look.

"What now?" they asked.

"Hey! Sorry, forgot to tell you guys. Kai's staying in the canyon for a while. She uh, she isn't in Freelancer's records at the moment, so they don't know she's there. But don't worry, Red's staying here with her, then someone from Command's going to come pick her up," Marley told the two 'sane' members of Blue Team via the radio before she made the jump to slip-space.

"Oh yeah! You're staying here until Command comes and picks you up. But don't worry, Red's staying as well," Church yelled back to Kai.

"Oh. Okay!" she said, easily accepting what her leader told her. Church and Tucker both let out simultaneous sighs of relief. Neither wanted to deal with a sad Kai.

/*/

Muffled voices. Tension. The rumble of engines. The sterile smell of the infirmary. "York, you're awake." A voice? Ow~! He'd heard the saying, 'it hurts to think,' but he'd never thought it was true. Ah! Turned out it was.

"D... what happened?" York moaned, too tired to raise a hand to his aching forehead. Oh, sweet, nutty fudge, it hurt to talk! What happened?

"Well well well, looks like somebody's determined to live to snark another day." Who was that? The voice... it was familiar but... Hey. Thinking didn't hurt as much anymore. Small mercies.

"Who... ?" York whispered, throat dry and scratchy. Seriously, what happened? Last thing he remembered was... Wyoming! He'd shot him! And then D knocked him out! But what... ?

"Call me Marley," the woman said, bringing a straw to his lips. "Don't try to get up, you've been out for a while."

"How long is a while?" York asked, not bothering trying to pry his heavy eyelids apart. The woman, Marley, hummed.

"About... three weeks? Give or take?" she said, and York could just imagine her rocking back and forth in deliberation. His eyes flew open, one still legally blind.

"Three weeks?!" he exclaimed, turning to her. The woman nodded, short auburn hair bouncing slightly. She wasn't a young woman, easily in her mid to late forties, but she was still a beautiful lady.

"Yes, Agent York. By now, news has likely been spread that you're dead. But don't worry, this actually works in our favor," she told him.

"How?" he asked and oh, how many, many layers there was to that question. His mind was too sluggish to list them all out, but he knew they were there. Contrary to what some would have you believe, Agent New York was _not_ an idiot. She turned to him with a grin.

"You can focus on your recovery without worrying about the UNSC or Freelancer coming after you for what ever reason they cook up. Also... there's an old saying. You don't know what you have until it's gone," she told him. "If I'm right, there's every chance Carolina's going to hear about your death. And then... Well, there's a chance she'll hear some of your journal entries. Who knows? Maybe this is just what you needed for her to come around." York sighed, looking down at his hands.

"So you're going to emotionally manipulate her?" he asked. She shrugged.

"Honestly hadn't crossed my mind, York. I just wanted to give you a real chance at life, that's all. If I hadn't given Tex Orange's contact information, you'd _really_ be dead," Marley said, putting the cup back on the counter. York gaped at her.

"You mean you're the reason I'm alive?" he asked.

"No. Yes. Sort of," Marley floundered. "Look, I trained Orange. I'm the reason Tex was able to call him. He's the one who stabilized you and called me and then beat the every loving stuffing out of Wyoming on your behalf. Take from that what you will," she finished. York sighed.

"Can I get some painkiller? My head's pounding," he said. Marley chuckled and handed him the pills.

"Sure thing champ, but I'm starting you on physical therapy tomorrow."

"Understood, Doc."

"Don't call me Doc. Reminds me of this completely incompetent medic that gave the entire medical field a bad name," Marley snapped. York held up his hands in defeat and went back to sleep. Marley smiled and tugged his blanket a little higher. "Carolina's a lucky gal, York. She just doesn't see it yet." She left him sleeping comfortably and sighed. The last coordinates she had for Flowdie turned out to be scrap. Literally. With that, she decided to head toward Outpost 17, Valhalla. "I just hope I'm not too late," she muttered, fretting about her loveable idiot.

/?/

A/N 2: So... yeah. The relocation orders come in, Caboose wants fudge, and York's awake! Sort of. I'll try to get him a part in the next chapter. Maybe North as well. Oh! Definitely need to get some Delta in. Let me know what you want to see, what questions you would like answered, and feel free to submit scenario prompts. I'll be sure to credit them to you... Man that was awkward phrasing. Oh well!

Tchuss!

Regenengel3

A/N 3: Mild edits. I know Wyoming betrayed Marley in the last chapter but... Motivational Poster!Flowdie seems to have swayed him and the scene fit too well with the flow of the story. I couldn't take it out. Also, spelling. 8/25/16


	36. Episode 34

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB.

 **Important note for recurring readers!** Due to the changes made by Marley and her gang, it's becoming harder for me to write up these chapters in a timely fashion. I still have two written chapters that just need editing, but that's not enough for me and especially not for my five day posting schedule. So, this is me, telling you, that until I have Carolina's arc thought out, at the very least, I'm not going to be posting. At least, not at five day intervals. So! Now is the time to review with suggestions on how to handle up coming events, confrontations, and fights. I always welcome constructive criticism!

Okay, boring part done with, onward my minions!

 **Episode 34:** A Change of Pace

York sighed. He was bored. While he was glad to be alive, and that he was right about Carolina, that didn't change the fact that he was bored. Recovering from two gunshot wounds to the chest took a while. And there was some weird thing going on that made recovery even harder for him. He didn't have a clue what that might be, but it was happening. Thus, he was bored while stuck in bed. At least he could see out of his left eye a bit better than before, but that was a small consultation. "Getting cabin fever yet, York?" his medically trained captor asked as she swung into view, grinning that irritating little grin that she had.

"Big time," he groused. She chuckled and came forward to check his wounds.

"Well, good news. You're cleared for therapy. Which basically just means light exercise and working your way up to your previous strength," Marley said, removing the bandages. "The wounds have closed, the muscle knit more or less back the way it should be, so you're not going to endanger yourself if you get up. However, it is my professional opinion that you shouldn't push yourself too hard. You've been laid up for weeks, York."

"I know I know. I'm not Carolina you know," he said, pushing himself to the edge of the bed and slowly getting up. Marley smirked.

"Oh I know. You're much more stubborn," she allowed. York shot a grimace at her... which she ignored. "I'm currently looking for Flowdie. He went off with Tex and Wyoming, and Omega. Something about turning them in as evidence. I have a feeling... it didn't work out like we had hoped. I can't contact their ship. It has me a bit... concerned."

"Well, I can understand that," York said, walking over to a console. "Any way you can help, D?" The familiar green hologram popped up.

"I have been assisting Miss Marley as she tended your injury, York," Delta said. "There is nothing more I can do." Marley shrugged.

"I'm already headed to Valhalla. Hopefully, that's where they'll be," she said. York sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair.

"And if they're not?" he asked. Marley once again shrugged, but the motion was a bit more like a heavy sigh than an unconcerned gesture. York had a feeling she was struggling to keep her worries at bay.

"We go after one of my guys. Eagle. He's our sniper," Marley responded. York perked up slightly.

"Yeah? He any good?" he asked, interested in having fresh competition, and in distracting Marley. She chuckled softly, a good sign in York's opinion.

"Almost as good as you York," she told him with a grin.

"I look forward to testing that," the infiltration specialist said in complete honesty. Marley chuckled, a bit louder this time.

"It's Rick I want you to talk with. He's our I.T wizard," she told him, sounding perkier already.

"Oh yeah? Sounds like a fun guy," York remarked drily. Marley chuckled.

"He's more fun than he sounds, trust me," she told the former Freelancer. York sighed, shaking his head. An icon popped up on his HUD and he sighed.

"We're exiting slip-space," he informed her, nodding toward the cockpit. Gleefully, Marley hopped up and took manual control of the ship, then circled the area.

"There are no indicators that Agents Florida, Wyoming, or Texas have arrived. What would you like to do?" Delta informed them. Marley sighed, laying her head on the dashboard.

"We go to Eagle's new post. Need to introduce him to a sniper who's just as good if not better than him," she said wearily, dragging her head back up. York frowned. Was all his work really that easy to destroy?

/*/

If there was one sight in the universe that Eagle loved, it was The Phantom rising up out of the clouds. It was Marley reaching out a hand to him, welcoming him. It was the dark expanse of space and the dusty cobwebs of the rafters where he'd lay in wait, safe and vigilant. So when he heard the roar of the engines, the creak of hydraulics opening the drop door, saw The Phantom hovering in the clouds and Marley jumping out the door, there were a few tears in his eyes as he took her hand. "I thought you'd never show," he said as she pulled him in for a swift, tight, hug. She chuckled.

"Now where would the fun be in that?" she asked. He chuckled, then froze as someone else came out of the ship.

"Who's your friend?" he asked, eying the newcomer suspiciously. The fact that his armor was in the Project Red style only in gray and tan didn't really help.

"Name's Ed," the tan armored soldier said, holding out a hand. Eagle didn't move. "Orange saved my life," Ed pressed, his hand still extended. Eagle blinked, then grasped his forearm tightly and gave it a sharp jerk.

"The infiltration specialist, right?" he asked. Ed nodded and Eagle turned to Marley.

"He doubles as a sniper. His skill might be a little effected by his bad eye, but I'd still trust him with my back," she told the wary soldier. He nodded and motioned them deeper into the bunker. It was a simple box bunker, serving as a weapons cache more than anything. There were a few rooms for guards, but aside from Eagle and a few crates of specialty ammunition, the concrete box was empty.

"It's not much, but it's home. For now," Eagle said as he finished his minor tour of the facility.

"It's perfect to continue your training, Eagle. Lots of high spots, plenty of floor space, and more than enough cover," Marley said. Ed noticed Eagle's shiver and lightly shoved his shoulder.

"Buck up, it can't be that bad, right?" he prompted. The burgundy soldier slowly turned to him, no doubt giving him a rather flat stare.

"Training with Marley is worse than basic ever was," the burgundy soldier remarked lowly. Ed shot a look over toward his doctor. Suddenly, a few of the bloodstains he'd found made a whole lot more sense. It wasn't a comforting thought.

"Got any food around here?" Marley asked. Ed turned back to Eagle, hands folded in supplication.

"Please let her loose in your kitchen! Florida used to absolutely _rave_ about Marley's cooking!" Eagle turned to him, then looked to Marley.

"That man..." she said with a sigh, shaking her head. "Flowdie has one heck of a sweet tooth. And he loves sweet potato casserole."

"I have a crock-pot, some beef, a couple of carrots, and four onions," Eagle said with a shrug.

"Oh, surely you have more than that," Marley said.

"Sure I do... but I was hoping you'd get an idea," Eagle said.

"Sure I did. Beef stew. Now, kitchen?"

"Right this way, Marley."

/*/

Dex sighed as he sat in the office, signing paperwork and filing reports. "Yea for promotion," he remarked sarcastically as he finished the third stack of paperwork for the day. He just had a few more sheets... The door opened and Dex bite back a moan. Then he heard the familiar laugh of his best friend and allowed himself to fall forward with a groan. "Please, for the love of oreos and Krispy Kreame, tell me you don't have more paperwork!" he moaned.

"For the love of oreos and Krispy Kreame, I don't have more paperwork," Rick's amused voice informed him. Dex leapt up out of his chair with a cry of delight.

"YES! FREEDOM! You, me, training floor, _now!_ " he yelled, already on his way out the door. Rick chuckled, shaking his head.

"And to think, there was a time when he was a lazy bum who would have loved a desk job," he muttered softly to himself. When he got to the training floor, Dex was warming up and the off-duty, and some of the on-duty, soldiers were gathered. Expectant chatter filled the room, making Rick roll his eyes. "Dexter! You're riling the boys up! And for no good reason!" he called. Dex gave a loud, short, bark of laughter.

"Am not!" he retorted, turning to his friend. Rick shook his head and began to stretch. Dex was eagerly bouncing on his toes, waiting impatiently for Rick to be ready. When he was, he struck without warning. Dex, through long and painful training, had learned to be ever on his toes and ready for a split-second attack, so he was able to block and counter Rick's haymaker. They traded blows, leapt over sweeps, and tossed friendly barbs back and forth, all the while mesmerizing their troops. It was a cacophony of metal on metal, a symphony of coiling flesh, a dance of titanium and Kevlar. The whole spectacle lasted for fifteen minutes and ended with Dex triumphantly sitting on a softly groaning Rick.

"Get off of me you ox!" the maroon soldier ground out. Dex laughed and gracefully climbed off of his comrade.

"Best two out of three?" he asked. Rick snorted.

"In your dreams. I'm headed to the infirmary, get checked for internal bleeding and broken bones. You know, the usual," he said, limping off. Dex snorted as well.

"You're fine, I made sure to pull my punches. Just a little. And I _know_ that limp is faked," he said, plainly amused. Rick held up his hands, limp vanishing.

"Oh no, he got me. What ever shall I do? Fretting. Worry," he drawled. Dex shook his head.

"Come on, let's hit the showers... unless there's someone who'd like a little extra training?" he said, turning to the assembled soldiers. They all shook their heads and backed away. Dex shrugged and turned to follow Rick to the showers, when the alarm goes off. Dex chuckled as Rick came trudging back onto the main floor, pulling his right gauntlet back on while trying to hold his left against his chest with his right elbow. "Here," he said, taking the left gauntlet. Rick shot him a look, then tugged the right one on before grabbing the left and pulling it on too.

"Not the time, Orange," he hissed. Dex shrugged again, grabbed a magnum, and dashed outside to at least attempt to coordinate a counter attack. He was really starting to miss the lazy, incompetent members of the Blood Gulch Crew. Sure they were getting better, but they were more or less friendly now. And that was much better than these semi-competent Blues who attacked randomly, but never with a gap longer than three days.

"Right. Now's the time to make grown men weep for their mamas!" Orange bellowed, hitting a Blue in the shoulder and putting him out of the fight.

"These guys are wimps," Rick remarked over gunfire and bloodcurdling screams.

"Yeah, a single shot to the shoulder and they're down," Dex returned, hitting another in the shin.

"Well Dex, your shots are precise and while they aren't life threatening, they have the potential to be crippling," Rick told his comrade, getting in a shin shot of his own. Dex snorted.

"Oh, and yours aren't?" he retorted.

"Touche, my friend. Touche," Rick allowed. It was widely acknowledged by all at the base that not only were the two new guys the best fighters in the gorge, but that they were completely insane as well.

/*/

Red had taken his task of looking out for Kai seriously. Of course, if he interpreted 'look out for her' to mean 'train her while I'm gone,' no-one could really blame him. Right? Yeah... right. So, Sarge had decided to train her like Marley had trained Eagle. He soon found out... Kai was terrible with sniper rifles. "How you can be such a bad shot with Dex as your brother, I don't know," he said, shaking his head.

"Hey! I'm a perfectly good shot!" Kai retorted, shooting a rock forty feet away... from where their target was.

"Um~hum. And I suppose you were aiming for that rock?" Red asked, crossing his arms.

"Cyah, totally," Kai responded, crossing her arms... and having absolutely no idea how she'd made that shot when she'd really been aiming for the target.

"Child... you're even worse at lying than Dex," Red said, though that really wasn't saying much. Dex was actually a fairly decent liar. Now, saying she was worse than Andy or Doc would be saying something, because they were terrible liars, but I digress.

"Is that supposed to be an insult? I know Dex is _amazing_ at lying. How do you think we survived this long?" Kai asked, crossing her arms. Red froze, blinked, then slowly relaxed. He hadn't realized it, but right here was a free pass into Dex's past. An open book to the intricacies of one of his men. Okay, so it was half a book and parts of it were in gibberish, but it was still a book!

"Ya know, I know pretty much nothing about you," Red said slowly.

"Same," Kai responded.

"Would you be less stand offish if I told you a bit about myself?" Kai considered this, then nodded and sat on the grass. "Right. Guess this could take a while," Red said with a sigh before sinking to the grass as well. "I was born and raised in south Texas. Little town called Hope. Beautiful place. Anyways, I had a nice childhood. Loving parents. Crazy uncles. Friends all down the street. Then I got a little older, about twelve, and things started to go down hill."

"Why is it always twelve?" Kai mused, thinking of her life. Red decided to address that at a later date, and continued.

"My parents were killed coming back from a trip to Mars. It had been their anniversary, so no-one could say that they didn't deserve it. Anyway, these Space Pirates decided that they were going to rob it, then blew it up when they were done. No-one survived. I was left alone, shuffled from Home to Home, until I finally decided to run away and live on the streets until I was eighteen and could join the army. Those were some of the best, and worst, years of my life," he revealed, looking into the middle distance. Kai was thinking... this sounded far too familiar. "Then I joined the army, and found where I belonged. At least... I had... until my drop pod malfunctioned during the battle of Quin'Sir. I was traumatized and had a broken knee. Even with reconstructive surgery, I'd never be able to function as an ODST again. Still have PTSD to this day, though I've been handling it better since Marley got to me."

"So you're a real soldier, not like Dex?" Kai asked. Red snorted.

"The only reason Dex wasn't a real soldier before he got stationed here was because he didn't want to leave you. If Marley hadn't shown up and given all of this reason for him, he wouldn't see the point in doing anything and need the threat of great physical harm to even get up in the morning," he said. Kai shook her head.

"It's still a little weird, hearing about him from you guys," she said.

"What was it like when you were kids?" Red asked, hoping the girl would open up. He'd missed most of their conversation when Marley's dropped Kai back at Red Base and therefore didn't have a lot of information on either of the Grifs.

"Our childhood... it wasn't all that great, and Dex hates talking about it," Kai said, looking away from the older man. Red sighed and took his helmet off, the soft _click hiss_ of the locks disengaging signaling a serious shift in the conversation. Even though Kai hadn't been in the 'army' very long, she understood the amount of trust and seriousness showing your uncovered head displayed.

"I'm not asking about your brother's past, Kai. I want yours," Red said. She sighed, knowing she was beaten.

"Well... He's there for most of it. For a lot of my childhood, he was the most important person in my life," she said sadly. "Mom ran off when Dex was only fourteen and our dad had become an abusive drunk by the time I was twelve. Dex... he had to grow up for me. Quick. He tried to look out for me, but he's only four years older. It was a lot to drop on him. Then... dad remarried. She was okay at first... but she's the one who started Dex on... his eating disorder. I never liked her. She was worse than the mother who abandoned us. I never realized, but Dex kept me sheltered from a lot of the stuff that went on in that house. It was the other kids at school who convinced me to try drugs when I was fourteen. It was my first boyfriend who got me drunk the first time... and then took my virginity. And it was always Dex who came to get me out of those messes. Dex was always the one to scold me. But I never listened, not really. I kept going out and doing those things, those degrading things... And through it all, it was Dex who looked out for me, who helped me in my rough times, never our step-mom. Then she decided to run off and join the circus. That, of course, pushed dad even further off the deep end... and Dex too, to a certain extent. He always tried to stop me from going on a binge, or sleeping with a guy, or any of the other things I did... but I never listened. Not until he was gone and that comforting, reliable, unrelenting presence was gone. I didn't have a crutch, and I fell. I fell hard. I knew he'd been drafted, but I didn't get any letters. No postcards, no phone calls, nothing. Not until they informed us... that he'd been KIA. It broke me... until I managed to steal a ship, a suit of armor, and make my way here. And I found him. After so long, I had finally found him. I was ecstatic... and then he told me to go home. I thought he would have been happy... but he wasn't," Kai said, tears pooling in her eyes the more she told. Red wordlessly pulled her into a hug when she was done. Sure it wasn't what many would consider a normal response for the ex-ODST, but what many forgot was... he was human too, and sometimes, human's acted in unforeseen ways to unexpected, or even expected, things. This was one of those times.

"After Dex gave you up to the Blues, he was a wreak. I'd never seen him so defeated, not even when I used to use him as a human punching bag and blamed him for everything, even if it might have actually been my fault. He loves you just as much as you love him. He wasn't mad, not entirely. He was scared, Kai. Scared out of his admittedly good wits. And then he calmed down and saw your arrival for what it was. A chance. He introduced you to Marley, who agreed to train you. He introduced you to me. Better, he _entrusted_ you to me. And I'm going to make sure he doesn't regret that decision by training you when Marley can't... as well as at least attempting to give you the kind of love and advice a father should give his precious daughter. If, that is, you're willing to let me." Kai sniffled and hugged the gruff man back.

"I think... I'd like that, Sarge," she said. The man chuckled.

"Wouldn't ya know, I've forgotten what my name really is?" he asked. Kai gave a weak laugh.

"That's a sign you've been doing this for far too long." Red chuckled back, letting the young woman go.

"Perhaps. Now, about that advice..."

/*/

While Red and Kai were having a heart to heart, Ed and Marley were putting Eagle through his paces. "I... Hate... You... _Both_!" the sniper huffed, jogging around the box Red Army dared call a bunker. Ed sent another paint round toward the running soldier, forcing him to speed up to avoid the hit.

"Yeah, and I want you to live. Now come on! Five more laps!" Marley called, stretching out and warming up for a teaching spar. Eagle groaned, but did as instructed and pushed himself forward once more. Ed just grinned, knowing he would hate doing this training at the moment, but would later thank his lucky stars he went through with it. After his last five laps, Eagle was about ready to fall down in a faint, but Marley wouldn't let him.

"Block!" she yelled, sending a fast snap kick toward his midsection. Reacting quickly, Eagle brought his elbow down to catch the kick, but it wasn't fast enough. "I said block!" Marley barked, sending a punch toward his face this time. Because his arms had been wrapped around his midsection, Eagle was able to pull his forearms up and duck his head down enough to minimize the damage done to his head when the blow connected.

"You're too fast!" Eagle argued.

"Dodge!" Marley yelled, snapping a kick toward his shins. Eagle barely managed to jump over it, landing shakily and stumbling back a few steps. "I'm not too fast, you're too slow. Dodge!" Eagle did an awkward duck step, pulling his head down and tummy in while stepping back, to avoid the scything hook kick aimed at his neck.

"Don't you think you're pushing me a little hard?" Eagle asked in a puff, sweat rolling down his face. Marley gave a loud 'psh' noise before lashing out with a quick jab toward his face. He instinctively pulled his head back and out of the way.

"If you have the breath to argue, you have the breath to fight," she said. "Counter!" Eagle floundered and took a right haymaker to the chin, sending him sprawling to the ground. "I told you to counter!"

"I'm tired," Eagle said, refusing to move. Marley huffed and kicked him in the ribs. "OW!"

"Roll over and give me twenty!" the woman barked, prowling around him like an evil house cat, all sharp points and fury and bristled fur in a tiny little package just ready to slash you to ribbons if you made one wrong move. Groaning, Eagle nonetheless rolled over and started doing push-ups. But these weren't exactly the push-ups you many be accustomed to. No. The way Marley made her boys do push-ups were in sets of five so instead of twenty push-ups, Eagle had to do one hundred push-ups. By the time he was done, his arms were burning. This was the third time that day he'd been forced to give Marley twenty 'push-ups.' "Now run boy! Run!" the woman ordered, pointing to his 'start' point. Eagle bit back another groan and set off at a light jog, picking up the speed as Ed sent another paint round toward him.

"Third time today," the running sniper groused. He was equal parts glad and dismayed that he was not to wear his armor during training. On one hand, he didn't have to run in it while on the other, he didn't have it to protect himself from Marley's attacks. Ten laps around the Box and Eagle was facing Marley again, blocking a low kick.

"Block!" A high kick that he barely caught and couldn't deflect, bruising his arm. "Block!" A left haymaker that he couldn't catch, bruising his chin and sending him reeling back. "Block!" A straight punch to the gut, a shaky low forearm block that added to the already aching bruise. "Dodge!" Another punch to the gut. Eagle hopped back, stumbling slightly as he landed on trembling legs. "Block!" Low kick, a shin block, one more bruise. "Dodge!" A leg sweep and another shaky landing. "Counter!" Another haymaker to his already aching jaw and Eagle was back on the ground, moaning. Marley shook her head and treated his abused jaw.

"Marley, I think it's time you call it quits. I don't know if he can handle much more abuse," Ed said. Marley shook her head.

"Drop and give me ten, Eagle," she said, though he voice was a bit kinder than before. Eagle didn't even groan, he just rolled over, pushed himself up, and set to it. Marley smirked and looked over at the former Freelancer. 'He's got a bit more in him,' she signed. Ed rolled his eyes.

'You're going easy on him,' he retorted with a pointed look. Marley shrugged, appearing rather indifferent to the suffering soldier behind her.

'Not as easy as you wanted me to.' He bowed his head to her and was about to sign back when a voice interrupted him.

"Stop. Signing. Behind me," Eagle huffed, forcing shaking arms to lift his body once more. Marley blinked, then grinned.

"Whatever you say, Champ," she said, holding up her hands and making a show of putting them in her pockets. When Eagle had finished his fifty push-ups, Marley set him five laps around the Box. Shoulders slumped slightly, Eagle nonetheless jogged off again. Then came the dreaded spar, or so he thought. Instead, Marley set him to doing stretches, then waved him toward the showers. Nodding gratefully, the sniper loped off.

"He's getting better," Ed noted, once Eagle was out of hearing range. Marley nodded.

"He is, but he can't counter," she said, almost reproachfully. Ed shrugged.

"He'll get it, don't worry. How much longer do we have?" he asked, turning to face her, rather than the door to the barracks.

"Oh, I'm not worried," Marley told him, turning to the left and moving toward The Phantom to return to The Ghost. "We've still got a year left." Ed jerked.

"Wait... what?" he asked, unashamed that his voice had gone up an octave or two. Marley had a habit of dropping verbal bombshells as though she were talking about the weather. It was one of the more annoying quirks Ed had come across, and he'd come across quite a few annoying quirks. Wyoming's knock knock jokes were a prime example.

"I said we have a year left to whip this boy into shape. While he's a good sniper, I'm afraid of what might happen if he's left on his own. So, we'll focus mostly on his hand to hand, some demolitions, and then long range when we feel the kid needs a bit of a confidence boost. You know, one of those 'there _is_ something you're good at, even if you suck at life' kind of things," Marley said before vanishing completely into her ship. Ed shook his head at the woman.

"The crazies you live with," he muttered before hitting the showers.

/*/

Halfway across Human controlled space and a day before, Dex suddenly had the feeling Kai had done something that he should be mad about, but he couldn't pin it down. It was driving him crazy, which drove his men crazy, which drove the Blues crazy, which drove Rick crazy, which added to the cray of the Reds, which added to Dex's crazy, which made a great big pile of crazy covered in a haze of fear and the sound of misery. How this could happen in only five and a half hours, no-one was quite sure. They just knew that it did and it needed to stop before everyone was dead. Sure the two sides wanted to kill each other, though Dex was a bit more kind to the Blues than the last Red Sargent that had been through, but they didn't want to go around killing their teammates. So, it was decided, they would call a truce until Dex's problem had been worked out. And who was in charge of fixing Dex's problem? Rick. His solution? "AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH! WHYYYYYYYYYY?!" Throwing the brooding Dex out a window and onto the outdoor training grounds.

"SHUT UP YOU OX! YOU'VE BEEN ASKING FOR THIS MISTER MCBROODY! NOW STOP YER WHINING AND MOPING, YOU'RE SCARING THE ROOKIES!" Rick yelled down at him before he jumped out, did a triple corkscrew, and stuck his landing with his twin pistols drawn. His _customized_ twin pistols.

"Wait... when did you make those?!" Dex shrieked, eying the weapons that looked like streamlined Maulers in Rick's hands. Actually, they looked like Magnums with thin throwing knives strapped to them and connected to a spool of wire that was bolted to the overly large hand grip.

"Oh these? Just something I've been working on for a while. Wanted a way to combine my two areas of expertise. You're just the first to see me test them. Do tell me what you think of them when I'm through," Rick said, lining up a shot.

"Oh dirty Oreos!" Dex screamed, dodging out of the way and pulling out his third favorite gun. "WHAT DID I DO TO MAKE YOU HATE ME?!" he asked as he ducked behind a large-ish rock, cradling his DMR to his chest.

"You've managed to do the impossible. You suddenly developed something that's been driving you crazy, which is driving your men crazy, which is driving the Blues crazy, which is driving _me_ crazy, which has been adding to the crazy of our men, which seems to have added to your crazy, and all of this has resulted in a great big pile of crazy covered in a haze of fear and the sound of misery. We're not quite sure how you've managed to cause all that in only five and a half hours, we just know that you did and it needs to stop before everyone was dead. Sure the two sides want to kill each other, but we don't want to go around killing our teammates. So, it was decided we would call a truce until your problem had been worked out. And who did they decide to put in charge of fixing your problem? Me. This is my solution," Rick recounted coolly, launching one of his knives at Dex and controlling it with the wire attached to the hilt.

"I did that?" Dex asked, narrowly dodging Rick's flying stabs.

"Yes. You did," Rick said tonelessly.

"In less than a day?" Dex asked, firing a burst at his second-in-command. Rick dodged with the ease of long practice and reeled in his knife, flicking the wire in an attempt to catch the still moving Dex.

"Yes," the maroon soldier grit out, frustrated with his inability to cut his comrade.

"Huh. I guess I am awesome," Dex remarked, before he yelped and fell to the ground to avoid a spray of bullets. "Since when did Magnums spew bullets like BRs?" the orange armored man muttered as he crawled behind another rock.

" _DIE!_ " Rick bellowed, grabbing a hidden wire off the ground and tugging.

" _AH! Mother of Godiva Fudge Brownies!_ " Dex yelled, pushing himself away from the ground and throwing himself to the right as he heard the dirt beneath him make a small _click_. Moments later the IED blew, taking a six foot radius with it.

"Wow," remarked one of the watching Blues, staring at the Red Sargent and his right hand man.

"Guess they really _were_ holding back against us," another finished.

"He-yeah. The Boss Men are badasses, that's for sure. Almost like having two permanent Freelancers on the..." a Red began, before he screamed in agony as one of Rick's knives impaled his leg and a burst from Dex's DMR tore through his shoulder.

"Don't ever compare me to a Freelancer, Joanes," the formerly sparring soldiers intoned as one, voices low and dark and _deadly_. Everyone in earshot swallowed heavily and retreated. "Freelancers, tear each other apart. Freelancers, care about who gets the better score. Freelancers, lie. They cheat. They steal. They shoot each other in the back, sometimes literally. To call someone a Freelancer... is the worst insult in the galaxy because Freelancers... are the worst monsters, because Freelancers are _human._ They've crossed a line, a very fine line, that separates civil from barbaric, humanity from animals, and that... is something I _never_ want to be associated with," Dex added before he stalked off into the base. He emerged fifteen minutes later, loaded down with a multitude of weaponry and proceeded to tromp off to where he could demolish a few boulders... and possibly carve out some new caves. With hand-held artillery.

"Congratulations. You just made Dex _mad_. Way ta go guys. Way. To. Go," Rick said, complete with a condescending Slow Clap. The Reds managed to look sheepish while the Blues were utterly terrified. "I suggest you all stay in your respective bases until he cools down. Reds, you may want to hide in your barracks when we can no longer hear ammunition impacting rock as that would mean Dex is on his way back. Wait until I give the all-clear. Or an extra three hours after the gunshots have died down." The Reds and Blues were quick to follow his suggestions. It was recorded among the scariest days in Death Gorge.

/*/

When Marley said 'demolitions' she meant anything and everything that went 'boom.' "Are you sure you want him doing this?" Ed asked, watching Eagle assemble an IED. Marley waved him off.

"Psh, he'll be fine!" she said.

"Besides, I'm helping," Louie added over the radio.

"Yeah. That's what I'm worried about," Ed remarked... from fifty yards away. Marley elbowed him.

"Lay off! Louie's a good guy. Handy too," she argued.

"Oh sure, but you can't deny, he's crazy," Ed said, giving her a look that told her quite plainly that Ed was rather glad he'd never had to relay on Louie on a mission.

"He's Cajun. Ever hear him talking about the river boats and the old woman out in the bayou his mama used to leave him with? Now that, was crazy," Marley countered.

"Yeah... wait, what?" Ed said, looking from Louie to Marley so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. Said woman chuckled at his impression of a fish on a hook.

"Yeah, mama was a crazy ol' gypsy. I remember she'd drive us down to New Orleans, set up in front of the big square. Me and my old man would play dueling guitars and she'd read palms. Best family days ever," Louie chimed in. A muffled boom and Eagle slowly laid himself out on the concrete.

"You guys are worse than Red Team," he remarked. Louie smacked him on the head.

"'Course we are! Now get up and do it again! And don't cross those wires this time. Those things are dangerous!" the man admonished his 'student.' Ed leaned over to Marley and asked,

"You sure he's Cajun? He doesn't sound like it."

"'Course I'm sure! He's just been out of the Bayou a little too long," Marely replied, carefully watching the other two soldiers at work. Ed looked at the former Freelancer and the 'Simulation' Trooper, then back to Marley.

"Is this how it's gonna be the whole time?" he asked.

"Yes. It is," she affirmed. Ed's shoulders slumped and he walked away, shaking his head.

"I'm stuck with crazy."

/?/

A/N: I... I have no excuse. This... this just... Happened. Yeah.

.

.

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Review please!

A/N 2: Minor edits, mostly for spelling. 8/26/16


	37. Special 3

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB.

WARNING! This is totally outside the continuity of PRCF. Also, mildly dark themes.

 **Special 3:** When Marly saw Season 14, Episodes 1-4

Marly had thought the visions were done. They weren't. She laughed at Grif and Simmons at Basic, she struggled to wake up, forced to watch in mildly amused horror as it was revealed how Sarge came to be... Sarge, but when the vision ended, when the picture was complete... she woke with a shocked gasp. "Flowdie~! Can you come here for a moment~?" she called, rolling to place her feet on the ground and pulling out her favorite weapon of mass fear. Flowdie winced. That sugar sweet voice promised _pain_.

"Yes, Marly?" he asked, peeking around the door to the 'living room' where Marly had crashed. He saw her grinning her feral grin and petting a scalpel. He swallowed heavily. This would not end well, of that he was sure.

"Did you orchestrate the formation of the Red and Blue teams, Flowdie?" Marly asked, now flipping the scalpel around in one hand. Sweat beading on his forehead, Flowdie nodded. Agent Oregon's eyes flashed and Florida just barely avoided the flying length of razor sharp steel. "You can run... but you cannot hide, Florida," Oregon intoned, slowly raising from her seat. The sound of titanium boots pounding against metal is hard to hide. Florida knew this, but still he ran. He just needed to buy himself some time. Just a little distance, then he could remove the boots and run some more. Run to take off the rest of his armor, stash... no. He couldn't abandon his armor. Who knew what Marly would do to it! Or have Rick do to it. Seriously, that man could be a savage when it came to embedding nasty bits of programming into just about anything with circuitry. However... the armor was hampering him here, now. Oh, why hadn't he left it locked securely in his room? ' _Perhaps it's because you never suspected she'd figure it out. You never thought she'd discover you're secret. That_ you _were the one to start this all. That_ you _were the reason Blood Gulch started,_ ' a traitorous voice whispered darkly in his head. Florida shook his head, trying vainly to banish the whispers. "I'll find you, no matter what you try, Agent Florida. This is _my_ turf. My rules, boy-o," Oregon's insidious voice hissed, winding through the halls like a viper. Florida shivered as that venomous tone entered his ears, bit into his brain. Soft, heavy, footfalls stalked him. No matter where he went, no matter which way he turned, they were there, waiting. It was almost more terrifying then Meta's growls. Oh yes, Florida had seen what Maine became, before he was sent out with Alpha. Maine had been scary, but Meta... Meta took it to another level.

"Forgive me!" Florida cried, once more trying to escape. A slight pause in the steady 'clump, clump, clump' of Oregon's footsteps was all the warning Florida had to drop to the floor before a flash of silver steel, polished so highly Florida could see his helmet in the blade, flew over his head. Had he not moved, it would have hit his neck, just below his helmet. ' _Guess it's not just your fear of what Oregon could do or have done to your armor that's keeping you from taking it off, huh?'_ a not-so-traitorous voice, which sounded a lot like York now he thought about it, remarked. He gulped once more, ignoring the voice and crawling forward as fast as he could, struggling to get back up to his feet. "Guess that's a no, huh?" he muttered, scrabbling around on the unforgiving metal floor of The Ghost.

"I never knew you could be _quite_ so deviously manipulative, Florida," Oregon remarked, almost conversational. His heart sped up. Oh great Steve Jobs, he was _dead!_ She was going to kill him and dump his body into the nearest black hole! No funeral, no mourning, no memorial, just death and a cold ejection into a dying star.

"I was following orders!" he screamed, grabbing the edge of a door and slinging himself around the corner.

"You sound like Locus, Florida. What next? You gonna tell me you're a professional?" the dangerous woman mocked. Florida swallowed heavily, looking for a good place to hide, even though he knew it was futile. It was moments like these that the man was forcefully reminded how the love of his life was known as the Surgeon of Death in many, many, circles.

"Well, you know, I _was_ professional enough to be picked for Project Freelancer," the man couldn't help but say. Still, as soon as the words had left his mouth, he wished he could grab them and stuff them back down his throat. Not only did he give away his position, he'd irritated her! Stupid, stupid, _stupid!_ He could practically hear her neck snapping around to stare in his direction, hawk like eyes zeroing in on his position. "Um... is it too late to retract that statement and say that I am the most unprofessional guy around and that the Director _must_ have been off his rocker when he recruited me into the Project?" the condemned asked, huddling as far down in the corner he'd found himself in as he could. The Grim Reaper chuckled, scythe replaced with gleaming medical tools.

"Why, yes, yes it is, Agent Florida," the Surgeon of Death purred. Florida whimpered, then screamed as Marly set to work. The Corner was never the same again, and Florida had a brand new fear of Oregon, marshmallows, jazz, strawberry jam, scalpels, gray beds, leather, and poptarts.

/*/

Hours after Oregon had finally caught him; poor, poor Florida was trying to repress the memories of his punishment. He was met with limited success. " _I don't even know how Caboose got sent to Blood Gulch! It was supposed to be California or Hawaii that got sent should I die!_ " Florida vaguely remembered screaming.

" _I know how it happened! You were a giant, manipulative, klutz! When you tripped over that cord, you caused a glitch in Vic's programming!_ " Flowdie's eyes snapped wide open as he processed that scrap of memory. Dread filled his stomach.

"Hey, Marly? When you had that vision, about how I was the mastermind behind both the Reds and Blues in Blood Gulch... ?" he asked, nervous. He got a Meta worthy growl in response from the dark corner where Marly was still glaring at him from. "Um... when I was a massive klutz... did it scramble the letters of the list of Agents that would be sent to Blood Gulch should something happen to me?" Another Meta worthy growl. "Was uh... was Kaikaina Grif on that list?" he asked.

"So was some person named Jenkins," Marly answered darkly. Flowdie shivered, causing the hidden monster to smirk. She should have used her helmet to mimic Maine _ages_ ago!

"Dexter must _never_ discover his sister was sent here because I tripped," the man remarked, then froze in terror as Marly cackled, then all traces of her vanished. He groaned, banging his head against the Ghost's wall. "Now I'm _really_ going to get tossed out of the air lock and into a black hole. Only, I'm not too sure Dex'll kill me first. Maybe he'll kill me, bring me back, break every bone in my body, let them heal half way, break a few of them again, and _then_ chuck me out the air lock and into the nearest sun. Broken bones, freezing cold, then burnt beyond a crisp, all while still conscious," he mused, then shivered. He needed to get off this ship, ditch his armor, get contacts, mutilate his ears, change his fingerprints, change his name, and never speak again. Maybe get a nice, big, disfiguring facial scar...

/?/

A/N: Yeah. I wanted to make it a horror special but... I just... couldn't hold the 'I'll kill him. Slowly. Painfully. And, with as much dark glee as Freelancerly possible.' Though, the ideas Flowdie came up with for Dex's 'punishment' were pretty specific... Still, Season 14, Episodes 2-4... you... you made my fan-conspiracy reality. I... I don't know if I should thank you or curse you for making Florida such an evil master mind! Truly, you, oh Season 14, have proven that Florida truly deserved his place in Project Freelancer. However! As much as I love seeing this conspiracy come to life, I must stay true to the Flowdie I have created. So, here is my 'response' to the first four episodes of season 14, though mostly, 'Why They are Here.' You likely won't see much of Manipulative!Florida in PRCF, though perhaps he shall appear elsewhere... *evil laughter is evil*

Until next time,

May the Stars Watch over You,

Regenengel3


	38. Episode 35

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB.

A/N: I am so sorry. I posted the wrong chapter last time, so here's the real Episode 35. Ugh. Yeah, my only excuse is... my mind was fried from my missions trip to Alaska still and I didn't notice which doc I was uploading. And I had a head cold. Yeah... ONWARD!

 **Episode 35:** Enter Wash, Stage Left

Roughly fourteen months later, Eagle made a shot that had Ed staring in disbelief. There was nothing else he could do. "How... ?" Well, maybe there was something he could _attempt_ , but it wasn't working to well. Eagle popped the spent shell out of his customized rifle.

"I'm just that awesome," the burgundy sniper remarked, staring coolly down at the unconscious Agents Dakota. "Black, you'd best work your magic fast. No telling how long it'll take for The Meta to actually arrive," he added, radioing in the hit while Ed shook his head. After this long, he really shouldn't have been so surprised the man beside him could hit two running Freelancers in the neck with a tranquilizer round from nearly 2,500 yards away.

"Right-o! Deploying Dummies for Dummy!" the former Agent Oregon piped cheerfully as she neatly swapped the unconscious North for a Dummy North with a Dummy Theta in his Dummy Armor. Her chipper voice pulled Ed from his contemplations of wind sheer, angle deflections, and temperature variables as he attempted to calculate the odds for the shot Burgundy had just pulled off.

"... I've died and gone to Crazy-ville," Ed remarked, shaking his head. Marley cackled, piloting The Phantom to pick the two up.

"Nah, you've always been in Crazy-ville, population Project Freelancer!" she remarked as the two trooped in.

"Among others," Eagle remarked, returning Betty to his back as he walked past the ex-Freelancer.

"I meant... oh never mind," the other sniper muttered, shaking his head. North groaned and Eagle dropped to crouch in front of the slowly awakening man.

"Well well, look who's up."

"Who are you?" North asked, a slight slur distorting his words as he tried to lift his aching head. He was met with limited success.

"The guy who knocked you out. You're welcome," Eagle said, then stood up, effectively vanishing from the still groaning Freelancer's vision as his neck muscles decided that holding up his armored head was far too much work and gave out.

"Why?" North moaned, not feeling particularly grateful for being knocked out. Pain and confusion usually do that to a person when what feels like only a moment ago they knew more or less where they were and weren't in any pain.

"Because~... it very likely just saved your life. As well as Theta. Becoming whole isn't necessarily a bad idea... but the way Sigma was going about it with the agent formerly known as Maine... isn't the way to do it," Marley said, taking Eagle's place and really only serving to confuse poor North even more.

"It wasn't the same circumstances, but they saved me and D too, North," Ed piped up, moving to where his comrade could see him.

"York?" North asked, managing to lift his head a bit higher. Ed took off his helmet, gray with a tan stripe, and grinned at his comrade.

"I'm going by Ed these days, but yeah man. It's me," he told him. North shook his head and, finally, removed his helmet as well. He had a time convincing his arms and fingers that moving was a good idea, but once the helmet was off he was able to actually look around so he considered it quite worth it.

"I heard you'd died man. What's up with..." North began, staring at the very much alive York, only to be distracted by a loud _boom_. "What was that?" Marley looked out the window and chuckled.

"That'd be Recovery One blowing up the Dummies I'd left behind in your place, North. Congratulations, you're legally dead," she said. "Oh and, Meta won't be hunting you. I left a Dummy of Theta behind too. Should mess with his systems a bit. Same as if he tried to scavenge Tex's cloak... if their ship crashed that is. Or maybe Flowdie dumped the body? I... I really don't know." North stared at the woman, clearly wondering how he knew her.

"North, meet Project Red. Project Red, North," Ed said, complete with hand motions.

"Hi North. I'm Agent Burgundy. That's Agent Black, this is Agent Lock. Feel free to plow a field with their faces the next time you get the chance, because they won't hesitate to do it to you," Eagle said from the corner, motioning to the other two Agents on the ship and sounding rather irritated with them.

"Aw come on Eagle Eye! I was just trying to make sure that you could handle yourself if the enemy gets inside the range of your rifle!" Marley protested. North had a feeling she was pouting under her helmet.

"Ah. Sniper with crummy hand to hand skills. Gotcha," North said with a nod. Eagle growled, not moving an inch. North winced. Even if the guy was bad without a weapon, Eagle managed to be intimidating.

"Hey, I'm a marksman and I can fight just fine without a weapon," Ed said, adding his two cents.

"I'm not that bad. Besides, as long as I have grenades, I'm good," Eagle defended, sounding only mildly like a pouting child. North blinked at that, staring at the burgundy sniper.

"What?" he asked.

"I've got a good arm, good aim, and have worked out how to carry well over twenty grenades at a time. As long as I have them and my Betty," Eagle stroked the stock of the sniper rifle slung across his back, "I'm good." North shrugged.

"I dual wielded sniper rifles to fight my sister who was using a mini-missile launcher. It's not outside the realms of possibility," he said. Eagle blinked behind his helmet, then a devious smile spread across his hidden face.

"Oh, I think we'll get along _wonderfully_ , North. Now you just need to pick a name that won't make Freelancer suspicious when they hear it," he said.

"I'm thinking... Jack," North said.

"Welcome to the Phantoms, Jack," Marley said holding out a hand. Jack eagerly took it, sealing the deal, not knowing that it was Wash that had dealt with his body... and South.

/*/

Red and Kai were having a friendly competition when Red suddenly jerked back and clapped a hand to his radio. "What? What?! _Another one?!_ _ **Marley! Why do you keep bringing in Freelancers!?**_ " the man exclaimed. Kai blinked, totally lost, while the man paced and growled, clearly not happy with the conversation he was having. "Fine fine. But I'm not too sure about this Wash fella," Red finally said before clicking off his radio. "We got a new Freelancer comin' ta town. Marley wants you to cooperate with him," he told Kai.

"Alright," Kai said with an accepting shrug. Red gave her a look, then walked away, shaking his head.

"Let's hear you say that when the Freelancer gets here," he said, stalking off to prepare a decent welcome for said Freelancer. Sure Marley hadn't given them a time-table, but Red had a feeling it was best to get started on that welcome all the same.

/*/

When he touched down, it was with a sigh. This was going to be a dead end, he just knew it! Still, orders were orders, and he was a soldier. Perhaps not the best, but he was a soldier nonetheless. He decided to start with Blue Base, seeing as it was the closest. When he reached the foot of the ramp, a figure in yellow armor came bouncing out toward him. "Hiya! You the Freelancer I was told was gonna be dropping by?" she asked. His mind went blank for a moment, before his orders reasserted themselves.

"Hi. I'm Agent Washington. This is Blue Base, correct?" he asked, refusing to lower his guard more than it already was. This woman... she was unsettling.

"It was," she said, sounding for all the world like she was pouting. He decided to ignore the tone, and address the problem her statement posed.

"Was?" She nodded with a heavy sigh.

"Everybody's gone. Transferred. Something about this base being obsolete now, or, whatever," she said vaguely, and a little sadly, waving her hand to indicate the base behind her. He looked at it, noting that it was, in fact, one of the older styles of bases used by the Simulation Troopers of Project Freelancer.

"Right," he said with a small nod. "Where did they go?" he asked, not about to lose a potential lead, even if it came from someone as odd as the young woman in front of him.

"I don't know! All different places. Nobody told me anything," the woman snapped, waving her arms angrily. He fought down feelings of sympathy. Now wasn't the time. He needed to find... It.

"Well, I'm trying to locate some people who have experience with the Freelancer program," he told her, hoping she'd be able to at least point him in the right direction. She tilted her head, then shook it.

"I wasn't here for most of the action, and then, when I was here, I was sent to the caves by my idiot leader, and then got tracked down and yelled at by my overprotective big brother. Red might know something though. Follow me," she said rapidly before jogging off toward the other end of the canyon. "Ya coming or what, Wash?" she called from the top of a nearby raise, looking back over her shoulder. He shook his head. This wasn't what he was expecting at all. Still, it was better than a flat out dead end, and at the moment... he'd take all the luck he could get. Heaven knew he had had far too little of it in his life.

/*/

Red saw Kai come bounding into view, rifle on her back, and grinned before setting up his cardboard decoys. He'd once heard Marley telling Flowdie about it, chuckling all the while, and had decided it was too good to pass up. So, when Washington was in position, Red triggered the first cut-out. "Halt, in the name of the Re... *ahem * 'light-ish red' army. This base is operating at full capacity. And if you come in here, you're gonna get in to a big... uh-um... slap-fight!" he called, trying his best to mimic Doughnut, before he got the name Eagle Eye. He was met with limited success.

"Heuhhh... I'm gonna have to call you back," he heard the new Freelancer say before he advanced a bit further. Red noticed Kai a little ways behind the Freelancer, shaking with repressed laughter. He grinned. Up next was his Simmons cut-out. But first...

"Don't come any further, ooh la la!" Did Washington just flinch? Red didn't have time to ponder that reaction before he triggered the Simmons cut-out. "This is your last warning, stay out! I love math!" he yelled, doing a slightly better impersonation of his former Yes Man.

"What in the..." Washington quietly wondered, staring at the cardboard figure. Red grinned, but continued with his script.

"Your only hope of survival is to suck up to my commander!" Washington paid the cut-out no more mind as he stalked closer to the base, causing Red to trigger the Grif cut-out, which he'd used as stress relief recently and hadn't had the time to replace, so it was rather singed and riddled with holes. "And this is another warning. I know the other warning was supposed to be the last one, but I never really listen to orders, 'cause I'm too cool for the army! And lazy. Did I mention lazy?"

"This is gonna be a waste of time, I can tell already," Washington said with a resigned sigh, even as he continued closer to Red Base. Red popped up himself, right in Washington's path.

"Ye~ah! Freeze intruder! Stop yer intrudin' right there!" he yelled, aiming his favorite shotgun at the relatively-soon-to-be-ex-Freelancer.

"Who made these things?" Washington asked, clearly thinking he was talking to himself.

"I did," Red remarked, allowing the cut-out hologram to terminate, showing that he was, in fact, the real Red. Washington jumped slightly. If Red hadn't been watching closely, he wouldn't even have noticed, but since he had...

"Wait, you're _real_?" Washington asked, bringing his gun up.

"Of course I am. You fell for a classic misdirection. I still got it. Heh heh," Red chuckled, lifting his shotgun to the sky and resting it against his shoulder in the least threatening posture he'd take around Washington before Marley gave him the all clear.

"Everything okay out there?" Lopez asked, somehow back in the canyon and speaking English rather than the Spanish he'd been stuck speaking for the past year or so.

"We're fine Lopez! Just greeting the new Freelancer!" Red called back, never taking his eyes off said Agent.

"New Freelancer? Eso es todo, me voy. Hasta luego, idiotas," the robot said. A moment later, they heard the Warthog start up and drive off. Washington decided to ignore the suddenly Spanish robot and focus on the soldier in front of him.

"Well. It seems you've had some experience with the Freelancer Program. Perhaps you can answer my questions then," he said, hoping it was true but attempting to keep his hopes from getting too high.

"Oh sure! Tex came and kicked my team's collective butt until Eagle nailed her with a sticky grenade and blew her _and_ Blue Team's tank up. Heh heh, classic," Red said, slowly drifting off into good memories.

"Well. This had been really... informative. But I need to find someone who has experience with artificial intelligence," Washington sighed, believing Red would be no help at all.

"Alright. You want to find Caboose then. He got infected for a while I think," Red said, playing by the script Marley had given him, though she had instructed him to call her once Washington left. Apparently, she had a bit of a soft spot for the young Freelancer.

"Great. Caboose! Do you know where he is?" Washington asked. Oh, how naively gullible. Poor guy had no clue what he'd gotten himself into by coming here, nor what he was asking. It was so tragic it was funny, and so funny it was tragic.

"Sure do. But I have to warn you, Caboose is... special. And don't ever ask him to help you, he'll end up shooting you. Ask him to help the other guy, and get _him_ shot by the walking disaster," Red said. Yeah, that's right, he wasn't a total heartless bastard. Just don't tell Grif.

"Um..." Washington said, suddenly not all that keen to find this Caboose person. ' _Good for him_ ,' Red thought, thinking about the walking disaster.

"Rat's Nest. You'll find Caboose at the Rat's Nest Blue base. And take Kai with you. Ever since her brother got shipped out she's been despondent. An adventure is just what she needs to feel better!" Washington took the information and left without a word, though Kai went after him, chattering on about her brother. When they were both out of sight, Red called Marley. "Washington just left. And he took Kai with him."

"Excellent. And your sure Wash is going to let her stay with him?" Marley asked. Red frowned slightly. It was hard to tell from the distortion, but it sounded like her voice was strained. He shook it off. Eagle and Ed were with her, they should be able to handle whatever it was. He had his orders.

"Yes. I sure hope you have a plan, Marley, because otherwise... training Dex is gonna blow up in your face. Big time," Red said, imagining how Dex was going to react to hearing Kai had left with Washington. Marley chuckled.

"Oh, I have a plan, but I need the Reds and Blues all together, along with Wash, to make it all work. If it _does_ work we'll be killing two birds with one stone. If not... well. I never did like Maine. Stupid ox man with a Harvard degree." Red blinked.

"What?"

"None of your concern, Red. Just go pick up Dex and Rick, then head to the abandoned power-plant. Let me worry about Kai," Marley said sharply before the line went dead.

/*/

Kai was excited. She was finally getting out of Blood Gulch! There was a chance she'd meet back up with her brother! Though... she could have gone without the grump. He was really cramping her style with all his 'rules' and 'protocols' and 'orders'. Still, they were going to pick up Caboose. She may have only known him for a few weeks, but she saw a kindred spirit in the young man. Finally, after what felt like forever, they reached Rat's Nest. Wash fairly fled the ship to get away from Kai, who had succeed in driving him crazy in the confined space. But then a really grumpy guy cut them off with an, "Oh no, _hell_ no! Excuse me Sir, but no gosh darn way!"

"You must be Lieutenant Miller," Wash said calmly, turning to the angry man.

"I got Reds comin' out my backside here boss. Then you show up and take away one of my men? For a-what did you say this was for?" Miller ranted on, turning slightly to direct his last words to the Privates lining the balcony.

"Secret mission, Sir," one of them called back. Miller reacted with shocked dismay.

"Aw, you gotta be- oh what?!" Looking around, Wash scoffed lightly.

"I think you have bigger problems on your hands than troop assignments, soldier. How about getting some of these vehicles back in working order?" he asked. Kai was beginning to wonder where this seemingly unshakable calm was coming from. She had him squawking like a school girl on the way over.

"What the hell do ya think I'm talkin' about? This is _your_ fault! _You_ sent us the new guy. He said he was good with vehicles. All he does is talk to 'em. _Talk to em'!_ What the hell is that all about? And now look at the darn things!" Miller ranted. Looking over, Kai had to agree with the two grumps. Those were some pretty messed up vehicles all right. She decided to leave them to their grumpy old man talk and walked over.

"Hum... first off, let's put that fire out," she mussed, then wandered off for a fire extinguisher. When she got back, it was to a rather happier Lt. Miller.

" _Problem?_ Heh heh, _hell no_. It must be Christmas morning and no-one told me. You stay right there, and I'll get him for ya. Private Jo-Annis. Jo-Annis! Jo-Annis, where the heck are you?" Kai heard one of the men sigh and say,

"Sir, for the millionth time, my name is pronounced Jones. Jones!" However, Lt. Miller didn't seem to hear. Or care.

"Jo-Annis, I need you to go down to the brig, untie Caboose, and get him up here," he told the Private.

"Me? Alone?" Jones asked, sounding rather afraid. Kai sighed and put down her tools.

"I'll get him Sir. I served with Caboose for a while, I know how to handle him," she said, walking forward. Miller turned toward her sharply.

"You do?" he asked, shocked. She shrugged.

"Sure I do, but I wouldn't mind an escort down there. I don't know my way around after all," she said.

"I'll take you ma'am," Jones said. She met him in the door way and off they went, down into the bowels of the base. "So... how long did you serve with Caboose?" Jones asked. Kai shrugged.

"Couple weeks. Everyone but me got transferred not too long after I got sent out to Blood Gulch, something about the base being obsolete. If Wash hadn't come, I'd still be stuck in that box canyon," she said, sliding around a Blue going the opposite way. Jones hummed, pulling out a key card.

"That's not very long," he remarked.

"Eh, when you're kindred spirits, you just click," Kai countered, then blinked in surprise as Jones swiftly moved to the other side of the corridor. "Uh... why'd ya do that?" she asked.

"You're a kindred spirit to the Walking Disaster. No offense, but I suddenly don't feel too safe around you," Jones said, aiming his gun at her. She rolled her eyes.

"He has confirmed brain damage, I don't. You're safe," she said dryly, unconsciously channeling her brother. Jones let out a breath of relief and moved back to his previous position just in time to open the cell with Caboose in it. "Hey-ya Caboose! Ready to get out of here and go on an adventure?" Kai said when she saw Caboose, who was, in fact, tied up.

"Ah! Kai! I did not know you would be coming! I would have made muffins!" Caboose said happily. Kai laughed and pulled out her knife.

"I know you would have, Caboose. Now hold still while I cut this rope," she said, then put actions to words and cut him loose. "And no helping the man behind me. He's cool."

"Okay! Why are you here?" Caboose responded, climbing to his feet, hand staying clear of his magnum.

"Like I said. Adventure! Come on, there's a new grumpy guy I want to introduce you to," Kai answered, looping her arm with his and leading him out. Jones trailed behind, quite confused by this strange turn of events. "Oh, and this guy called Miller wanted to see you," Kai added. Caboose nodded and soon they were exiting the corridor into the motor pool.

"You wanted to see me, Principal Miller?" Caboose asked, running up to the newest grumpy guy.

"Yes. Caboose, this here is Special Agent Washington from Blue Command. He has something fan-tastic he needs to talk to you about," Miller said, then turned to Kai. "How'd you... ?"

"Just need to know how to talk to 'em, that's all," Kai said with a shrug before heading back over to the wrecked vehicles, which Miller noted weren't smoking anymore.

"Command? Oh no. They never have good news. Did somebody die? Was it my Mom? Is she dead? Or my Dad, did my Dad die again? Oh no," Caboose rambled in mild terror. Washington stared at Caboose in what could only have been confusion. Kai quietly snickered. Oh, if only she could see his face in that moment!

"What is this? I-I don't..." he stuttered. Kai cackled and decided, this was far more entertaining than fixing the vehicles so she set down the tools and leaned against the wrecked tank to watch the unfolding drama.

"Heh heh, you see? He's yours now, heh heh heh, no take backs," Miller chuckled, standing back with his arms crossed.

"Is it my brother? Was my brother killed? That's it, isn't it? _My brother is dead!_ " Caboose wailed.

"What? No, nothing like that," Washington said, turning back to Caboose, still completely bamboozled.

"Oh good. Because I don't even have a brother. How sad would it be to not have a brother and to lose a brother all in the same day?" Caboose asked, finally calming down.

"No-one died!" Wash yelled. Kai was fairly sure he was refraining from tossing his arms up in frustration. "Private Caboose, you were stationed at Blood Gulch, correct?"

"Yeah. That was fun," Caboose said, clearly thinking about all the craziness that went down in that canyon.

"And our records indicate you were infected by an aggressive artificial intelligence program at one point. The Omega A.I.? Is that..."

"No way! Omega was an A.I.?" Kai shouted.

"Yeah. That wasn't as much fun," Caboose said. Kai's eyes went wide as something Marley had said came back to her. ' _Alpha, Beta, and Omega were all here for a time... but then Alpha and Beta had the bright idea to try and kill Omega. That... just made Blue Team's problems worse._ ' She'd said that a few moments before she confirmed that Caboose had brain damage.

"They shot up his head," she breathed, horror gripping her heart as the realization settled in. Wash glanced her way, but refocused on Caboose quickly.

"Okay, well, I need you to come with me. I'm investigating a critical issue and... you seem to be the only person with the knowledge and experience necessary to help me," the Freelancer told the Blue soldier, then paused and sighed. "And I just realized how ridiculous that sounded once I said it out loud. Nonetheless, I need you to come with us."

"Can I have a word with him first Sir?" requested Lt. Miller. Kai shrugged and turned back to the vehicles. She really had to thank Dex for all those after school lessons on mechanics someday. By the time the old grumpy guys were done talking and Wash was leading Caboose back toward the ship, Kai had finished one Warthog.

"Man, the Reds at this base are rough on vehicles! It took me this whole time to fix even one!" she remarked, looking back toward the two men.

/*/

"I don't see why we need _another_ grump," Kai complained, arms crossed from her position behind Wash on his Mongoose.

"He's the only other person Caboose knows who has experience with the A.I. and Project Freelancer. And he's intelligent. I need him, if only to keep me sane," Wash said. Kai chuckled.

"Oh, sure, Church'll keep you sane," she said, clearly finding quite a bit of amusement in the thought. Wash shook his head and was quite glad to find that they had reached the co-ordinates for Church's re-location.

"And you're sure this is where we can find this guy?" Wash asked, looking at the dilapidated base.

"I think so. We all found out our new orders at the same time; he tried to hide his from me so I would not know where he was," Caboose answered. Kai snickered.

"Yeah, and then you stole them from him when he was distracted," she said.

"Yeah. He wasn't too happy about that," Caboose said, almost mournfully.

"And he knows about Freelancer as well," Wash said, not quite asking. Caboose nodded, still walking toward the ill-maintained wall.

"Oh, yeah, he knows the most. He knows uh, all about your A.I. game. He dated Tex!" the simple soldier replied happily. Wash froze, then turned to look at the regulation Blue soldier.

"Agent Texas? Um, how could a person..." he began, clearly confused, before a sniper shot cut him off, impacting the ground between him and Caboose. Kai had hung back. "Fudge! Sniper! Get down!" Wash yelled, diving and rolling to come up in a crouch behind a large-ish rock. Caboose was confused. Why were there bullets?

"Okay, that was your one warning shot! The next one's goin' right between your eyes!" a voice called out, along with the faint sound of a shell casing being ejected from a rifle.

"Private Caboose! Get down!" Wash barked. Kai shook her head and ambled up to the freaked out Agent.

"Has no-one told you about Private Leonard Church?" she asked.

"Uh..." Wash blanked, a little shocked by her calm amusement.

"His aim? It's almost non-existent. Caboose is fine. You're actually safest when Church is _trying_ to hit you," Kai informed the flummoxed Freelancer. "It's when he's aiming for the guy beside you that you need to worry." This did not fill the Freelancer with confidence. Meanwhile, Caboose had recognized the voice of the sniper.

"I know that voice! Church! Church! It's me! Your all time best friend!" he yelled.

"Caboose? Caboose is that you?" Church yelled back, though he sounded faintly distressed.

"Yes! It is me!" Caboose answered. Church open fired, but none of his shots connected, though they were usually in the general vicinity of Caboose. "I have missed you so much! It has been so long! Did you miss me?!"

"Fudge! I missed him!" the unlucky sniper lamented, having to reload his gun.

"You were serious about his aim then, weren't you," Wash remarked, shocked and amazed. Kai giggled.

"Yep~! He's notorious for it~!" she sang.

"How are you people still alive?" Wash asked, mostly to himself.

"The other side is just as bad... that or they feel that letting us live is more fun than killing us," Kai answered with a shrug. "Plus Dex is on the other team. We have a policy about killing family."

"I knew you did!" Caboose yelled at the dilapidated base, ignoring Kai and Wash's conversation about aim and death. Church was far more interesting than any of that stuff.

" _Go away!_ " Church bellowed back.

"This is your friend?" Wash asked slowly.

"Yeah," Caboose confirmed. Kai hummed.

"More like our leader," she countered as Church started shooting again.

"And he's shooting at you," Wash said, completely confused by the conflicting signals he was getting from the Blues.

"Well, at me and stuff around me. Yeah, it is kind of like our thing. So he acts like he doesn't like me, but he really does. And and he might bring up something about me killing him, but that's only the truth. Uh it's a joke. You could play along if you want!" Caboose said, making his last sentence sound like a great honor. Or game. Whichever works better for you.

"Wait, that doesn't make sense. You did what? You... you killed him?" Wash asked.

"Hey, scram, seriously! Get the fudge outta here," Church yelled at them.

"Hey Church! This is Agent Washington! He needs to speak to you," Caboose told his 'all time best friend.'

"Agent Wa..." Church began, running to the edge of the watch tower and seeing it was, in fact, a Freelancer hiding behind a rock in his front yard. "You brought a Freelancer here? What's wrong with you?!" he asked, shocked. Kai shrugged, stepping out of her cover.

"Oh, you know, brain damage from a gun fight in his head, possible oxygen deprivation and gasoline poisoning," she said. "Nothing big."

"Kai? What are you doing here?" Church asked, taking a half step back and looking around nervously. Where Kai was, Dex was sure to follow. It was only a matter of time.

"Uh... getting out of Blood Gulch and going on an adventure with an Agent. Duh. Now open the gate so we're not screaming at each other," Kai yelled back.

"Uh, no can do Sis. See, this is a secure facility: nobody in, nobody out. Sorry, I guess you'll have to come back... never," Church tried, but he was to be denied.

"Oh no, then I guess we'll have to just walk through the huge hole in your secure wall," Wash said, looking pointedly at the gaping hole in said wall. Church followed his line of sight, then sighed.

"Fine, I'll open the fudging gate," he relented, disappearing back into the base.

"You're not too bad... for a cop," Kai said as they waited for the gate to open. Wash shot her a look.

"I'm not a cop," he said. She chuckled.

"What was your job before this one?" she asked. He sighed, head dipping a little.

"Internal Affairs," he admitted. Kai chuckled again, clapping a hand on his shoulder as the gate opened.

"See? Yer a cop," she said before sauntering inside. Wash shook his head.

"Not a cop," he muttered, following the two Sim. Troopers into the base.

/*/

Red swallowed heavily as he called Dex. Telling an overprotective big brother who happened to be a weapons expert that his kid sister had run off with a Freelancer wasn't the safest thing in the world to be doing. Especially when you had been the one to tell said Freelancer to take said kid sister with him... and you were going to be meeting up with said overprotective big brother. The radio connected and Dex's voice came through the device. "Hello, you're reached Red Base, Sargent Grif speaking, how can I help you?"

"Can the sarcasm, mustard head. A new Freelancer came through Blood Gulch. He was looking for people familiar with the Program and A.I. He took Kai with 'em when he left," Red barked, though he scuffed his feet a little. Hopefully Dex wouldn't hear him.

"What... did you just say?" Red winced. Oh yeah, Dex was ticked.

"Agent Washington came through Blood Gulch looking for..."

"After that, numbskull," Dex said, cutting him off with a snarl.

"He took Kai with him," Red repeated with dread.

"Any idea where he's headed?" Dex asked. Red hunched a little. Even when he was on another planet, a mad Dex was still terrifying, and said weapons expert was seething.

"Yeah. I'll..."

"Tell me the co-ordinates and meet me there."

"Fine. Remember that old, abandoned, power station? Chances are good Agent Washington will be headed there, sooner or later," Red said through gritted teeth.

"I'll grab Rick and meet you there. Come as soon as you can," Dex said before he cut the transmission. Red grimaced as he headed back inside to pack his things. That had gone about as well as expected.

/*/

Inside the Base, Kai was a little surprised Church had allowed it to remain so messy. He was the cleanest member of Blue Team... though perhaps that wasn't really saying much. "Okay, well... sorry the place is so messy. I would have cleaned up if I'd known you guys were coming. But hey, no-one called ahead," Church remarked, clearly not too pleased with their arrival. Kai winced. She knew angry sniping when she heard it. Long years of practice.

"How long have you been here?" Wash asked, looking around.

"How long? Um... What day is it?" Church asked.

"Today is Tuesday," Wash answered.

"I've been here fourteen months," Church reported. Wash jerked slightly, as though Church had reclaimed his attention from the desolate surroundings.

"What? Over a year? By yourself? Alone?" he asked.

"Uh, that's what 'by yourself' means. Cop," Kai snarked. Church looked over toward her and gave her a small nod.

"I can see the family resemblance," he remarked. Kai smirked, though she felt her face grow hot being compared to her amazing big brother. The army had been good for him, even if he didn't think so. "Anyway, yeah, it's been um... it's been great. I mean just, just... it's been great. Really great," Church confirmed, though he sounded more like he was trying to convince himself that his words were the truth. Wash shook his head slightly.

"No idiots disturbing your peace, no random explosions, no crazy chicks in black armor showing up with supposed to be dead soldiers. Yeah, I can see how that'd be great," Kai said, nodding. Caboose was just kinda... there.

"You really are an odd group of people. Hold on," Wash said and turned away from the Blues, having a radio conversation. "This is Agent Washington. I found some Blue Team members that have extensive experience with Omega."

"Did he just say Omega?" Church asked, visor focused on the Freelancer.

"Yeah. And some other words too," Caboose said with a nod.

"Roger that," Washington said, giving a sharp nod that was seemingly reflexive.

"Roger what?" Kai asked, trying to put her head up to Wash's radio, though the Freelancer was doing a good job of avoiding her.

"Recovery One out," Wash said, then turned to the Blues. "Come on, let's move out."

"Move out? Hey, at what point in this conversation did you think that we were buddies or something? I'm not goin' with you," Church resisted.

"Yes! You are not in our buddy club!" Caboose said.

"Shut up Caboose, and what did I tell you about that armor, when we had to pick new suits?" Church barked.

"You told me to upgrade!" Caboose answered happily.

"That's not an upgrade! This is Mark VI armor, that's Mark V. _This_ is an upgrade," Church said, drawing attention to the fact that, yes, Caboose was wearing out dated armor.

"In a Top Ten List, five is better than six," Caboose declared.

"We're not a top ten list!" Church screamed in frustration.

"How do you ever get anything done if you're always arguing?" Washington asked in a tone of wonder.

"We don't! That's part of our charm. Quit messing it up!" Church squawked. Kai rolled her eyes at her team leader's melodramatics.

"Seriously, we never did anything in Blood Gulch. It was so _boring_! That's why I jumped at the chance to leave with you!" Kai said in that far-too-happy way she knew drove Church up the wall. He was almost as much fun to rile up as Dex had been. With Church's aim, it was actually more fun because the more he tried to shut her up, the more she could tease him for not being able to hit her. It was a win-win... for her anyway.

"And that's another thing. I'm not going if Kai is too. Dex would kill me if she got into anything dangerous!" the cobalt soldier fretted. "And Red no doubt told Dex that you took Kai, so he's going to be hunting you down and I do _not_ want to be close to you when he catches up," Church added with a shudder.

"Yes. He is scary," Caboose concurred. Kai rolled her eyes at them.

"Oh please. Dex is a big teddy bear!" she said. Church gave her a flat look.

"You haven't seen him fight before, have you?" he asked drily.

"Sure I have! Marley showed me their training videos!" Kai responded.

"And you still think he's a 'teddy bear'?" Church asked incredulously. Caboose and Wash were watching the two like a tennis match.

"He's my big brother, Church. Of course I think he's a teddy bear," Kai responded matter-of-factually, arms crossed to show defiance. At this point, Wash decided that the banter had gone on long enough.

"Look, I know you guys are all wrapped up in your little 'red vs blue' battles..." he began, only for Caboose to cut him off.

"Blue vs red battles. No-one says red vs blue. It sounds stupid when you say it backwards," the poor, brain damaged, soldier said.

"But this is important," Wash carried on, acting as though Caboose hadn't spoken at all, "actual military operations. Not your fake simulation stuff. Something is hunting our top agents, and I need all the help I can get to stop it."

"Stop it? If it's killing Freelancers, I want to start a fan club for it. Build it a website," Church said. Kai shook her head.

"Marley was a Freelancer. And what about Ed? Dex risked his life to save him! And if Tex hadn't been there to keep Wyoming busy, Ed would have died. Would you build a fan club for Wyoming if he'd managed to kill Ed?" she asked.

"Wait... whose Marley and Ed?" Wash asked.

"Marley's this crazy chick who goes by Agent Black. Ed is... I'm not too sure. Who is Ed?" Church answered, turning to Kai.

"I don't know who he was before, but I heard them arguing about giving him any kind of tan armor. Something about it being a dead giveaway," she said with a shrug. "Sounded like they gave it to him anyway."3rw

"Tan?" Wash asked faintly.

"Yeah! Tan. Anyway, I want to help him," Kai said, turning back to Church. "It's what Dex would do, I'm sure of it."

"Fine. But I never saw you," Church said, looking away.

"Uh... o... kay. This thing is hunting Freelancers, and now that the ship from your canyon is crashed, we think it's more powerful than ever. It gains new abilities..." Wash said, trying to get things back on track. Church had other ideas.

"Wait wait wait, whoa. You found Tex's ship?" he asked, abruptly turning back around.

"We believe so," Wash confirmed with a nod.

"Where?" Church questioned the agent, taking a half step closer. Kai knew she wasn't a master at reading body language, but if she didn't know better... she'd say Church was desperate for any news of Tex.

"Come with me, and I'll show you," the Freelancer as good as challenged.

"Okay. I'm in," Church said, hefting his sniper rifle.

"Yes, this will be the greatest road trip ever!" Caboose cheered.

"If you say anything positive, I will fudging kill all three of us right now," Church declared darkly.

"Uh... there's four of us," Kai piped up.

"Oh I wasn't counting you. That would have driven Dex insane, and I wouldn't wish an insane Dex on anyone," Church said.

"Who is this Dex you all seem so scared of?" Wash asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"Well, does the name Agent Black ring any bells?" Church asked. Wash nodded. "Dex is Agent Orange, hand picked and trained by Agent Black."

"Wait... she's Agent Orange's little sister?" Wash asked, pointing at Kai. Church nodded. "Okay. Suddenly feeling nervous." Kai rolled her eyes.

"Don't we have an adventure to be going on?" she asked. The Freelancer shook himself and led them to their transport, though he was having second thoughts about taking Kai with them. Project Freelancer didn't know a lot about the Color Agents, but they knew enough to be cautious.

/?/

A/N: So... yeah. Kai's along for the ride. How's _that_ gonna affect things? And Dex isn't gonna be waiting for Red at his base knowing what he knows. This is gonna be interesting. Also, it's gonna be a while before there are any more new chapters in this one. Still working out the end of the arc and how I'm gonna play it with the A.I. I'm hoping to save them but... it's gonna take some doing.


	39. Episode 36

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB.

 **Episode 36:** Heeee~re's Meta!

OR

Enter Meta, Stage Right

Dex and Rick arrived at the power plant and were surprised to see Marley, Eagle, and two new helmets. "Well now, who might these two be?" Dex asked, subtly aiming his BR at the purple accented one while Rick palmed a knife while staring at the tan one.

"Phantoms Lock and Clear," Marley said, "but you can call them Ed and Jack. Dex, you'd know Ed better as York." Dex quickly shouldered his rifle, prompting Rick to sheath his knife.

"Good to see you up on your feet, Ed. How's D?" Dex asked, holding out a hand to the tan accented soldier.

"Likewise. D's well," Ed said, grasping Dex's forearm.

"Good to hear. I collected Gary from Wyoming, after I beat him unconscious for what he did to you. Unfortunately, he got away to terrorize Blood Gulch and is now MIA along with Flowdie and Tex," Dex relied.

"Wait wait... who's Flowdie? And who are you?" Jack asked.

"Flowdie is former agent Florida," Rick said. "And we're Agents Maroon and Orange. You can call me Rick."

"Okay... wait. Florida's alive?" Jack said, ignoring Rick's proffered hand for the more startling news. Rick jerked his hand up in an 'eh, fine, whatever' kind of motion before letting it fall back to his side.

"Possibly. There was a crash reported at Valhalla, Outpost 17-B. It could be the ship Flowdie took Tex and Wyoming on, along with O'Malley. I'm hoping Flowdie got out alive but... there is no guarantee," Marley said.

"Right. Anyway, you're the guys Burgundy's been muttering about?" Jack asked, turning back to the two Red Agents who had just arrived.

"Well, I don't know about that, but he's our sniper. Our Eagle Eyes in the Sky," Dex said.

"Dex is the team's weapons expert, as well as the one I owe my life to," Ed told his friend.

"Ah. Right. So... what now?" Jack said, bouncing slightly on his toes. Marley shifted, looking mildly uncomfortable.

"I uh... I might have forgotten that Wash would be taking the Blues to Valhalla and have to fight The Meta before they come here, following The Meta," she said. Dex growled, and that was when Red pulled up.

"Do you have any idea how long it takes to get from Blood Gulch to here?" he growled.

"We're leaving," Dex said, turning sharply toward The Ghost. "No way am I letting Kai anywhere _near_ this Meta creature."

"The former Agent Maine," Marley said. Dex sped up and Rick chased after him, Red not far behind. "Shoulda seen that one comin'," Marley sighed.

"Ya think?" Ed said, jogging after the Reds.

"Whose Kai?" Jack asked.

"Dex's little sister," Marley said, pushing him toward The Ghost.

"Then yeah, you should have expected this," Jack said, running under his own power. Marley shook her head again.

"I'd actually be more worried for Kai if Maine was still in control. So many little voices in your head makes decisions hard to make. Especially if one or more is compromised by a specialty virus," she said, only to have five helmets turn to her at once. "What?"

"What do you mean 'little voices'? And what 'specialty virus'?" Rick asked.

"Well, Meta's collecting A.I. and armor enhancements. I gave Flowdie a virus I've been working on for years, that one I had you look over for me in your spare time Rick. If he did what I think he did, Tex's invisibility enhancement is compromised, and likely Beta as well. Not too sure about O'Malley, but there's a chance. Now, Wyoming's..." Marley said, then got cut off by Dex pulling the time unit out of... she wasn't too sure where, but he pulled it out and showed it to her.

"No need to worry about The Meta time skipping. I've got Gary and the time unit. Spent quite a while at my command figuring out how to work them effectively. Gary and I have... come to an understanding," the weapons expert told her. Marley chuckled.

"You ever use the time unit to fight yourself?" she asked. Dex shrugged.

"Maybe. It's all wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff to me," he said. Marley placed her palms together, finger pointed upwards, and bowed slightly toward the orange agent.

"The Doctor would be proud," she told him. Dex scoffed.

"Nah, I don't think he would. I don't use the time unit like a TARDIS after all. It's much less elegant as well," he said, and Marley was fairly sure he was grinning.

"Are we going to be flying or just stand here yappin'?" Red asked, just as the ship lurched, taking off.

"Answer your question, Red?" Marley asked, easily sitting down. The others weren't quite as lucky and fell over.

"Sorry," Theta's shy, childlike, voice echoed over the ship's PA system.

"It's okay, Theta. You did wonderfully," Marley told the little A.I., who returned to Jack.

"Yeah, though a little warning would be good," Jack told Theta as he pulled himself back up.

"Aw, don't sweat it," Dex said, sounding rather amused, "I bet Marley put him up to it. She's always doing stuff like this." Jack shook his head, but sat down and buckled himself in. "And if it's not Theta, it'll be D or Gary," Dex added. Jack sent him a glare while Rick smacked the back of his head. Ed was laughing, the traitor.

"We'll be arriving at Valhalla in half an hour. That should be plenty of time for the others to arrive. Once they do, we follow and observe. If and when The Meta shows up, we _only_ interfere if needed, understand?" Marley barked. Dex grumbled, but nodded, the others nodding easily. The rest of the trip passed in uneasy silence, the sound of Rick sharpening his vast collection of knives and Dex checking all his many, many guns lulling the former Freelancers into the all too familiar mission mindset.

/*/

Kai watched intently as Wash talked with the Private guarding the wreaked ship. They seemed to be arguing, but without being able to hear, it was a little difficult to tell. Wash shook his head, walking back toward them. She tapped Church. "Cop's coming!" she warned. Church quickly turned to face the returned Wash.

"We have a problem," the Freelancer said with a sigh.

"I hope it isn't a math problem," Caboose said solemnly.

"They've got the crash site locked down," Wash told them with equal solemnity. Kai scoffed.

"What good is traveling with a cop if they can't get you in?" she asked.

"Yeah, and why's we have to walk here? Couldn't we have found out on the radio?" Church groused.

"They said we could use the base if we want," Wash said, though he seemed to know it wouldn't appease the Blues. Kinda sounded like he wasn't appeased either.

"Wow, the empty concrete base? Is it our birthday?" Church asked, heavy on the sarcasm.

"I want cake," Caboose declared seriously.

"Can't we find somewhere nicer to hang out? Hey, maybe there's like a cool nightclub nearby that you can't get us into either. That would be awesome," Church went on as though Caboose hadn't spoken at all. Wash let out an irritated breath, glancing back toward the crash site before he nodded slightly and turned back.

"You three stay here. I'll go draw off the guards. When I give you the signal, use the grav-lift," the Freelancer said, already hefting his weapon once again.

"The what? How do we use it?" Church asked, looking toward the base, confused.

"Just step on it, it'll do the rest. Meet me at the ship," Wash said.

"Okay, what's the signal?" Church asked, turning back around. Kai snickered while her leader stared for a moment. "Gosh darnit, I hate when they do that," Church remarked.

"When they do wha..." Caboose asked, finally turning to look where Wash had been, "hey! Where's Agent Washington?"

"Off distracting the guards," Kai said, already headed inside the base.

"You're very helpful," Church growled, stomping around to follow.

"What do you think he'll do for a distraction?" Caboose asked, meeting the other two at the roof, where the grav-lift was.

"Who knows. Probably like, you know, make a noise, or throw a rock. That's what I would do," Church answered, watching the crash site. A moment later, a distant vehicle got blown up, appearing for a moment in the sky, before falling back to the ground to the sound of a siren. "Or... he could do that," Church said, head drooping slightly.

"I think he is better at distractions than you are," Caboose remarked.

"Yeah," Church said, sounding mildly bitter.

"Okay, come on out. But come quietly," Wash's voice said over their radio. Kai was already moving when Church gave the order to move out.

"Um, yes, I don't want to. Uh, you see, I am scared of the thing that I don't know what it does," Caboose said.

"Aw how bad could it beeeeeeee! Whooooo!" Kai said, accidentally stepping into the grav-lift and being shot through the air. Though, credit where credit was due, she managed to control her flight. Slightly.

"Right. I see your point," Church said, then shook his head and stepped carefully onto the grav-lift. He still ended up being thrown ungracefully through the air, screaming and flailing. He landed, bounced, skidded, hydroplaned off the river, and rolled painfully along the ground until he slammed into a Warthog behind a pair of soldiers near Blue Base all the while making involuntarily 'oof' noises. It definitely wasn't his favorite method of travel, that was for sure. "That was fudging crazy!" he said, a little louder than he should have.

"Did you just say somethin'?" one soldier asked. Church held his breath, even though he was a robot and didn't have breath.

"... Whuh?" the other solider asked, sounding rather unintelligent. Church relaxed slightly and was soon joined by Wash, Kai, and Caboose.

"I said quietly, what part of _quite_ don't you understand?" Wash asked gruffly.

"What part? How 'bout the part where I got thrown eighty feet in the fudging air by the Godiva dratted throwing thing?!" Church retaliated. They sat there, staring at each other, as a tank rolled by. Nodding, they then moved toward the crash site. Kai rolled her eyes and followed, Caboose trailing faithfully behind.

/*/

Once they reached the ship, Wash looked around, hiding behind the blasted metal. "They didn't see us, okay. Stay out of sight. Do you recognize this ship?" Wash asked, nodding toward the beat up hull.

"Yeah, this looks like Tex's ship," Church said.

"Man, whatever happened, this thing took a beating," Kai said, staring. She wasn't wrong. The ship was bent, twisted, gashed, and scorched almost beyond recognition.

"You're telling me," a new voice said from behind. Wash and Church spun around, guns at the ready, to see a soldier in gray armor and sporting cyan accents. "Whoa there! Easy," the soldier said, hands up.

"Flowdie?" Church asked, recognizing the by-now-trademark gray visor of Project Red and the Phantoms.

"Flow Man!" Kai cheered, leaping at him.

"Hey there, Kai," Flowdie said, catching the young woman. "So, you're the one sent out to recover us, huh Wash?" he asked the Freelancer was was warily watching through his gun sights.

"I know you?" he asked coldly. Flowdie chuckled, shaking his head.

"Nah, you probably wouldn't say that. I was reassigned not long after Epsilon was to be implanted in you and the MoI crashed. And before that, I wasn't usually welcome in your little group," he said.

"Who are you?" Wash demanded, his weapon remaining aimed solidly at the newcomer's shoulder.

"Agent Hippie, of Project Red. But you'd know me a bit better as Florida," Flowdie said. Wash's gun came to be aimed squarely between Flowdie's hidden eyes.

"Florida's dead," the Freelancer growled. Flowdie tilted his head.

"That what they tell you about Georgia? Utah? Michigan? Louisiana?" he asked. Wash twitched slightly with each name and Flowdie chuckled. "Truth is, I'm a Phantom, attached to Project Red as a training officer for the Agents. Agent Orange won't be pleased to know you've brought his sister along," Flowdie expounded.

"See? I told you her brother was one scary dude!" Church said, a few feet away from his last position.

"Just because he was trained by Florida doesn't..." Wash began, only to be cut off by Flowdie laughing.

"Oh, I wasn't the one to train Orange, Wash. No. It was Black, formerly known as Oregon," the Phantom told the Freelancer.

"Oregon? But she was a Doc, support. She wasn't..." Wash began, but Flowdie laughed louder.

"Don't you know why she was recruited into Freelancer as an Agent and not a nameless medic?" he asked once he had Wash's attention. "Marlene White, a decorated Army Surgeon, died in a raid on the UNSC base at Drackon. A few days later, Agent Oregon showed up in Freelancer's records. Problem was, the unit she was attached to _swore_ she was alive when they left the site. See, Oregon was Dr. Marlene White, and Dr. White _was_ alive when the marines in her unit got out of there. And she was alive when they came back... only it was Freelancer that came in and cleaned up, taking the bloodied Dr. White with them. She cleared that whole base, Wash, she just didn't want to have to do it again. Oregon _purposefully_ didn't preform well enough to be on the MoI _or_ her leader board. Marley never was one to allow herself to be manipulated like a puppet on a string."

"ENOUGH! What can you tell me about the crash?" Wash shouted, turning away forcefully.

"We were escorting Wyoming, O'Malley, and a couple of Elites to the UNSC when we discovered the space station had been annihilated. We came under fire. The port side got hit, the rear stabilizer was offline, and something was wrong with the clock. If the time unit and Gary hadn't been back in Blood Gulch with Dex, I'd have said he did something hinky to it. I spotted this canyon, tried to land manually. The Elites... they opened the rear doors. I shot them, but by then it was too late. We were going down. _Hard_. I ran for it, jumping out a few moments before the ship hit. I don't know what happened to Wyoming, he might have been killed in the crash. I've been hiding out ever since the crash. But I did see something large come through. It decimated the Blue Base, then swept through the Red Base. I've been keeping tabs on the Freelancer Goonies, waiting for you," Flowdie relied.

"Matches up," Wash said, slightly less suspicious. Then his shoulders tensed and he brought the gun back up. "Why were you waiting for me?"

"Because... well. Hum. Seems I've backed myself into a corner. Okay. I'll admit it. I knew you were the Recovery Agent assigned to this case. Me and Marley are still in contact with 479er. Poor girl, stuck on a desk job," Flowdie revealed, shaking his head sadly at the fate of the mysterious 479er.

"Right. Well, if you were waiting for me, then I assume you're willing to help me?" Wash said. Flowdie shrugged.

"Don't have anything better to do," he remarked. Wash sighed, shaking his head.

"Okay, so after the ship crashed here, the Blues got here first and unloaded the bodies and equipment. Then they started to get infected."

"But... I deleted O'Malley. Put a virus in... oh no. They messed with Tex's armor, didn't they? Idiots!" Flowdie said furiously, kicking the destroyed Pelican.

"Makes sense. O'Malley could move from suit to suit. For some reason he liked Agent Texas best," Wash said. Flowdie shook his head.

"I don't see what O'Malley has to do with the situation here, Washing Boy. I infected Tex's suit with a virus to delete _any A.I. inhabiting the suit_ as well as _muck up the systems_ of anyone who tried to ransack her body," he said testily, crossing his arms. Wash was fairly certain the usually laid back man was glaring death at him.

"I think I liked you better when you were a silent rules follower," Wash declared gruffly.

"So... am I the only one lost right now?" Church asked, looking from one Agent to the other. Kai chuckled and threw an arm around the robotic soldier's shoulders.

"Nah man, we're all lost," she said, far too cheerfully.

"Back to the matter at hand?" Wash asked. "You said Gamma was back in Blood Gulch with Dex. How did Dex manage that?"

"He was called to go on a mission with Tex, before her demise. Going after Wyoming, as a matter of fact," Flowdie said. "When Wyoming hit York, Dex went a little... Tex on him."

"Again, told you he was scary!" Church said, looking at Kai.

"Again, he's an over protective teddy bear!" the girl maintained, crossing her arms stubbornly.

"Right. So. Washington, where's your A.I?" Church asked, likely hoping to change the subject to something he could actually talk about.

"I don't have one. Any more. It's a long story..." Wash began, only for Flowdie to take over.

"When the A.I. fragment Epsilon was implanted... it was revealed to be unstable and lost control inside Wash's head. It messed him up pretty badly, and put him off A.I., rather understandably if you ask me," he said.

"Hum. We have a lot in common, Agent Washington," Caboose said seriously, though it was a little hard to tell from the way he spoke.

"No, we don't. And don't ever say that again," Wash contradicted.

"Actually, Caboose has had _three_ other intelligence units inside his head. Two of them took issue with the third and opened fire at him. O'Malley fled, possessing the medic who was stranded in the canyon," Flowdie informed him quietly. Wash shot him a look.

"You're sure?" he asked, just as quietly.

"Oh yeah. I'm sure. Poor kid's just as messed up as you were. I think he's still trying to pick up the pieces, as it were," Flowdie confirmed.

"Aw man," Wash said, then turned away as Command contacted him. "I have you Command, level zero. Go ahead." Flowdie looked around, idly wondering if Marley had arrived or not. "I'm receiving here too. Standing by." Flowdie looked toward him sharply while Church asked,

"What was that?"

"The was my recovery beacon. It means an A.I. somewhere is in jeopardy and I have to find it before... something... else, does," Wash replied, a little shifty about what, exactly, he was 'rescuing' the A.I. from. "Receiving coordinates for recovery target. Do we have an ID?" Flowdie watched in slight trepidation as Wash's fist clenched, presumably in anger, before he bit out, "Agent South. Yes. Yes, she is." Flowdie sighed.

"Revenge missions are ill suited to you, Wash," he said. Washington, in true Freelancer fashion, ignored him. "And now we're off to 'take care of' South. Isn't that just brill?" the Phantom Agent remarked dully as Washington marched past him. Only Caboose didn't agree with the dry sarcasm in the man's voice.

/*/

Kai wasn't too sure what to make of the current situation. She was sitting behind a cop on a Mongoose driving straight at a huge, hulking, knife-rifle wielding guy who was shooting _grenades_ at some other person inside a bubble. "There they are!" Wash shouted, making Kai wince from the volume.

"New targets encountered," a soft, calm voice said from the direction of the grenade proof bubble.

"Don't let it get near her!" Wash ordered, pulling his battle rifle from his back and firing, one handed, at the large grenade launcher wielding dude. In true Blue fashion, the team managed to crash all their vehicles, though the _freakin' grenade gun_ being fired at them might have had something to do with it. Kai found herself crouched behind a rock with Flowdie, keeping her head down and trying not to get hit, while the male tried to shoot the big guy.

"And don't let her get away!" she heard Wash order. Church's voice came over her radio.

"Her? Isn't she a Freelancer like you?" he asked, a certain amount of venom in his voice.

"Yeah, just don't let her leave!" Wash replied, still shooting and still being ineffective.

"Okay! Caboose!" Church barked at the simple soldier.

"Hello."

"Hey, see that purple one? She's on our team. You should help her," Church said, presumably pointing out the person they'd come to 'take care of,' as Flowdie had called it.

"Okay!" Caboose said cheerfully. Kai heard a gunshot and a feminine cry of,

"Ah, my stomach!" followed by the cool, clam voice from before stating that there was friendly fire.

"Um, she got in the way when I was trying to help her," Caboose said.

"Okay, we're good!" Church called to Washington.

"Drat. It's gone invisible," the cop said. "Keep an eye on your motion tracker, and watch your perimeters, look for a shimmer."

"If he took Tex's active camouflage, then we might not be in as much of a bind as you think," Flowdie said, though Kai wasn't taking any chances. She may have been stupid, but she was still a Grif, and if there was one thing Grifs had, it was self preservation instincts. Sure they may not have been working properly when she first met Tex, but they were working at the moment!

"Cover me!" Church shouted, jumping over his wall and rushing the last spot they'd seen the big guy.

"Church! Drat. Caboose! Cover him!" Wash ordered. "Grab some of those spike grenades."

"What?! No! Don't let Caboose help me!" Church panicked, making him a perfect target for the monster. Stupid Church. The monster decloaked and fired at Church. "There it is! Hey, how 'bout a little help here?!" Church asked, somehow dodging the round.

"On it! Caboose, toss that grenade!" Wash responded. Kai just sat back and watched, seeing as the main threat was focused elsewhere. She saw Caboose throw the grenade... and it stick to the wall. Over the radio, she heard Washington dryly remark, "That was the worst throw ever. Of all time." Flowdie chuckled.

"Still have that verbal tick huh? Good ol' Washington, that little rascal," he remarked, sounding like that strange uncle who would give you pink daises on your birthday and call you 'sweetcakes.'

"And you wonder why Black calls you 'Hippie'," Church remarked dryly. Flowdie growled quietly and cuffed the back of his head.

"Where did it go?" they heard Washington ask, capturing their attention. "What happened?"

"You don't remember? You threw a grenade that landed between us. But don't worry, I saved you," Caboose said, twisting the facts to make him sound better.

"It suddenly had a spasm and ran off making a rather pitiful keening sound. What's wrong with you? Why didn't you tell us it could use equipment?" Church said, ignoring Caboose.

"I tried! You didn't listen!" Wash argued.

"And why didn't someone give me something to yell about?!" Caboose yelled, just for the heck of it. The prone figure started to groan, causing everyone to congregate at her position.

"Delta, are you here?" Wash asked.

"Right behind you, Agent Washington," the calm voice said, though there seemed to be more emotion in it. Everyone turned suddenly to see six figures on the ridge line.

"Long time no see, partner," one of them said. Wash made an odd noise, and if Kai didn't know better, she'd have said he was gaping. The six came closer, and then one of them bopped Kai on the head.

"Ow! What was that for?" she asked.

"I really need to make myself an identifying mark," the figure muttered darkly before he looked back toward her. "And it was for running off with a gosh darn Freelancer!" he added angrily. Kai heard Flowdie, Church, and Caboose shift backwards away from her.

"D~ex~!" she whined, rubbing a hand over the top of her helmet.

"Oh don't you 'D~ex' me missy!" Dex scolded, ignoring the others.

"But... !" the younger Grif tried, only to be cut off by the infamous Agent Black.

"A-HEM," Marley cleared her throat, causing Dex to twitch. "Code Freelancer here. Really appreciate it if you could blow up at your sister _after_ we get this all settled." Dex sighed heavily, but turned to the rest of the group.

"Fine. But let's wrap this up quickly. Kai and I need to have a _talk_ ," he snarled, shooting her a look she was fairly sure was nasty.

"Wonderful! Now, South, any particular reason _you're_ the one with my Dummy!Delta?" Marley asked the slowly standing South.

"Not that I'm telling you," the Freelancer responded. The dark figure twitched then stood at attention.

"Dummy! Report!" Marley barked.

"Before Agent Washington arrived, South attempted to turn me over to the Meta, to save herself," the hologram by South's shoulder reported.

"Really," Wash asked, not sounding surprised in the least. One of the figures who'd come with Marley flinched a little, but otherwise didn't react.

"Much like she wounded you to escape in our previous encounter with it, Agent Washington. And as I have learned in our travels, her brother North suffered a similar fate," the hologram went on.

"What a team player," Wash remarked sarcastically, fingering his magnum. Kai was starting to feel a little uneasy around him, to be honest. He seemed a little... trigger happy.

"It is highly probable that she will turn on us again soon, and in her current condition, she will only slow us down," Dummy continued.

"That's enough, Dummy. Load into Ed's armor and sync," Marley ordered, one of the men who came with her holding out a hand. The hologram vanished and a copy appeared by the man's shoulder.

"Dummy was an apt name, Marley. I am surprised that he was even able to run her domed shield," the new hologram said, sounding vaguely insulted. The man chuckled.

"Easy, D. Keep that tone and I might mistake you for the Disgust fragment rather than Logic," he said.

"York?" Wash asked, sounding a little strangled.

"Ed. Easy enough mistake I suppose. So! What's been up with you Wash?" the man replied.

"You're dead! I recovered your body myself!" Wash exclaimed, pointing dramatically at the man.

"Heh, yeah, see, Orange here wasn't about to let that happen. Black agreed. They faked my death, with a little help from D," Ed said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. Wash looked toward Dex.

"You saved York's life?" he asked. Dex shrugged.

"He was one of the decent Freelancers, Washington. He was suited to the Logic A.I. Don't tell me you'd let him die, had our roles been reversed?" he responded.

"Ugh, so you mean I _still_ haven't had an A.I.?" South grumbled.

"Sad to say... yeah. You've never had an A.I. And Meta has a Dummy!Theta as well," Marley answered.

"So. What now?" Flowdie asked. Marley glanced at him, then turned to South.

"Now, we decide what to do with her," she said. Wash looked at Ed.

"Delta? Any suggestions?"

"Dex isn't the only one who needs to have a _talk_ with his sister, Wash," the man who'd flinched when it was revealed that South had shot Wash in the back said, staring at South. It was then decided that Rick would make sure the Dakota Twins didn't kill each other, Eagle and Red would ensure the same of the Grif Siblings, and Wash would catch up with Ed. Marley and Flowdie also had a reunion, but theirs involved crashes, bangs, and girly screams with an undercurrent of maniacal laughter. No-one wanted to get in the middle of _that_. They rather wanted to keep what little sanity they had left, thank you very much.

/*/

Nearly an hour later, it was revealed that Flowdie had survived Marley's worry fueled wrath, Wash saw York as a cool older brother, Kai just really didn't want to be alone, Dex had a sister complex, Eagle could annoy Red without speaking, Ed saw Wash as the annoying little brother he'd never had, Rick was annoyed, Jack was mildly depressed, and Caboose had shot South while she was attempting to steal Theta. The little A.I. was mildly traumatized by the whole experience. "Well... that could have gone better," Marley remarked once the whole story had been told.

"Ya think?" Jack remarked sullenly. Marley gave him what amounted to a flat stare.

"Come now, Jack. You and I both knew she was not only a flight risk, but a _health_ risk. Her psyche was... damaged. Possibly more so than Wash's after the Epsilon Incident. She was driven mad by the competitive environment the Director set up. She shot you in the back! She shot Wash in the back! She nearly _gave_ Meta Delta! Granted it wasn't the real Delta and wouldn't have been able to run the healing unit Meta took off a downed Wash, but still! And she was going to dump her dome shield along with Delta! Think about it, Jack. Active camo, an energy shield, a healing unit, and a localized E.M.P, all loaded into one monster suit of armor, with A.I. capable of running it all. That's what she nearly unleashed on us, Jack! And if I weren't around, that's _exactly_ what Meta'd get, along with Gamma and Wyoming's time unit," she told the soldier, who looked away, presumably chastised. "Now, Delta, you saw the battle, do you think Meta's systems might be damaged?"

"Affirmative. The power-plant we came from is likely where he went," the green A.I. answered. Marley nodded and herded the living members toward her ship, before Wash said,

"Excuse me, I need to go blow up that dead body," and put actions to words, shooting South several more times with his battle rifle, blowing her up with a plasma grenade, then some crates, and finally some power core looking things.

"Finished?" Marley asked blandly as he came jogging back.

"Yep. Now lets move," Wash answered, far too evenly, hopping into The Phantom. Marley shook her head.

"Epsilon really did a number on you," she muttered, closing the hatch.

"You don't say," Wash snarked, strapping himself in. Marley sighed heavily.

"Dex, why don't you and Flowdie take the controls. There are a few things I want to go over with our new arrivals," she said. Dex nodded and left for the cockpit, already engaged in a fierce rock-paper-scissors battle with Flowdie over who got primary control over the ship. "Right, now that that's... more or less settled," Marley said, shaking her head at the childishly feuding Agents and turning back to the rest of the passengers, "I'd like to talk teams."

"I ain't teaming with no dirty Blue!" Red immediately declared, pumping a round into the chamber of his shotgun.

"Duly noted, Red. But that's not what I meant," Marley said, pulling out a tablet and laying it on the floor. An expanded holograph projected upward and she turned to Rick. "Really gotta thank you for working this out buddy," she said, causing Rick to shrug unselfconsciously, before turning to the list of names hanging in the air. "Blue Team currently has four members in total; Caboose, Church, Kai and Tucker. Red Team officially has five members: Red, Dex, Rick, Eagle, and Lopez. Unofficially, me and Flowdie are attached to Red Team as mentors. That leaves Wash, Ed, and Jack. I consider it a foregone conclusion that Wash shall join Blue Team as a mentor, thus bringing them up to five. That leaves three Phantoms without an official Team and five Blues to six Reds. Ed, Jack, either of you willing to join Blue Team?" she said, turning to the remaining ex-Freelancers.

"Wait wait wait, why is it a foregone conclusion that I'd join those losers?" Wash asked, jerking a thumb at Church and Caboose.

"Because it is? Because I saw it? Because you know they need help? Because you know what it's like being the lowest of the low? Because I said so? Because if you don't Caboose will be sad? Because you're a big softie? Because Dex is still mad at you for taking Kai?" Marley remarked. Jack noticed the sniper rifle in Church's hands.

"Hey, Church, can you actually fire that?" he asked. Church shuffled and Marley, along with Rick and Eagle, chuckled evilly.

"Barely," they chimed together. Jack nodded.

"I'll join Blue Team and try to teach Church how to use his rifle," he said. Eagle pulled out a notebook and handed it to him.

"My notes, from when I tried to teach him. I find whacking him helps the lessons stick. Slightly," the burgundy sniper explained, motioning toward the book. Jack sighed, wondering what he'd just gotten himself into.

"I'd like to join Red Team," Ed said, causing everyone to look at him in surprise. "What?"

"Why?" Marley asked, though secretly she was dancing in glee. She had a teacher for Rick! He was shaping up to be a decent infiltration specialist.

"I remembered what Dex had told me about his skill set. I want to see if I can help him learn how to pick locks. And possibly extend his range," Ed said.

"Wonderful! But that means that we need to call in other Phantoms to join Blue Team to even things back out," Marley responded. "Wash, Jack, I'd like you to pick a Blue to mentor, though team training is _greatly_ encouraged. Kai's my personal student, by request of her brother. Any questions, complaints, or requests?" she told them, looking around curiously. How she managed that kind of emotion with a full face helmet, the others weren't too sure, but they had begun to notice that all the Reds and Blues had the ability. It was rather impressive to be honest.

"Yeah, what made you think I..." Wash began before Marley cut him off with a gesture.

"Right right right, the Meta. His armor is infected with a virus, curtsey of Flowdie and Tex, who voluntarily uploaded it herself. Sorry Church, that version of her is gone, but on the upside, she's not trapped in the Meta's head with Sigma. Ugh, not a place I'd like to be. Anyway, we'll capture him at the power-plant and then turn him over to the UNSC, along with the A.I. units he's gathered. A bit of fast talking ought to get Wash off the hook, and if it doesn't, we can fake his death while busting him out of prison. Dex gets Meta's Brute Shot by the way. No way am I cheating him of that piece of beautifully brutal weaponry," she said. Wash shook his head at her, but allowed her plan to go through, still not knowing that Church was the Alpha A.I. It was best he didn't. Not until the time was right.

/?/

A/N: Yeah. Just... yeah. So! Which former Freelancers do you want brought in? Drop a review with your choice!


	40. Episode 37

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB.

A/N: I recently re-vamped this story, so if you're a recurring reader, I recommend you go back and read through to catch all the little changes I made. Mostly concerning Wyoming. Anyway, onward!

 **Episode 37** : The Phantom, the Meta, and the Rejects

Wash was in shock. Pure, unadulterated, shock. How could he not be? He was surrounded by ghosts! Granted they were in different armor, but the voices were the same! It was unnerving really, being around his old team... even if it was incomplete. He felt like the rookie again, which was a feeling he thought he'd shaken after the MoI had crashed. "Oi, Wash, you feeling alright man?" Marley asked as she came closer. Wash sighed, shaking his head.

"I'm in a ship with a bunch of ghosts, a couple A.I., and a team of idiots. So no, I'm not okay," he said. Marley chuckled.

"Relax Wash. You may be the rookie to the Phantoms, but Project Red and Blue Team... they'll look up to you. You're the mid-range specialist. And who knows, maybe a little Red and Blue logic is just what you need to pull yourself together. As it's been said, they may be idiots, but they're lucky idiots," she told him.

" _My_ lucky idiots," Flowdie said, exiting the cockpit. "Why don't you..."

"NO!" Marley said, overriding him. He crossed his arms, almost as if he were pouting, and stared at her. "I need you on my team. Most of the new Phantoms are snipers, Flowdie. In fact, all of them are! We've already got Ed and Frank, and Dex isn't too bad with a sniper... do you really want to add Jack to that? You're a close in kinda guy, like Wash. We need you."

"Actually, Miss Marley, if Mr. Flowers were to join the Blues, the teams would be equal in manpower and skill," Delta decided to say, debunking her statement. Marley groaned.

"Not what I meant, Delta," she moaned.

"Hey, ya can't argue with the Logic A.I," Flowdie declared happily, putting his hands behind his head and leaning back against the wall of The Phantom. Marley set her visor to clear and gave the all too smug man a glare before turning to the other and putting on her best puppy eyed pout.

"Wash, back me up here," she pleaded.

"Jack! Come on, don't you want to be on a team with me again?" Flowdie entreated. The others held up their hands.

"Hey, leave me out of it," they said as one, causing the Reds to chuckle.

"Eagle~!" Marley sang, hands clasped in front of her.

"You've reached the life model decoy of Franklin Doughnut, please leave a message," the sniper said, mimicking an answering machine and causing the others to chuckle.

"Do you really want to lose Flowdie?" Marley asked anyway.

"Your message has been recorded. Expect a reply... um... never," Eagle intoned before he went to take Flowdie's place as the co-pilot. The ex-Freelancers were pretty sure Marley was sulking but honestly, they were too busy chuckling to care.

"I like Flowdie. He's a real sweet guy," Kai said, piping up for the first time in a while. Dex, who could hear perfectly well from the cockpit, sighed heavily.

"Marley... You and Flowdie are the only two Phantoms I know. Kai trusts Flowdie, I trust him, and besides, he's always been Blue. Please... just let him go," he said. Hearing this, Marley let out a defeated sighed.

"Fine. But he stays on _my_ ship!" she said, latching onto his arm. Wash, Ed, and Jack looked at the pair in shock.

"Uh..." they confused. Marley sent them all a dirty look through her clear visor.

" _Mine_ ," she declared, holding the stunned, but very pleased, Butch Flowers tight.

"Finally," Rick declared, sprawling in his seat with a smirk.

"What?" asked the other three Phantoms, Wash having been unceremoniously induced into the group.

"Yeah, it's been brewing for a while now. I'm kinda glad Marley's decided to throw sanity and reason to the winds and just claim him. Watching her try to push him away was getting a little tiresome. Besides, they argue like an old married couple anyway," Eagle said with a chuckle. Wash shook his head.

"I've died and gone to crazy-ville," he muttered. Ed chuckled.

"That's what I said," he said. "They told me I'd always been in crazy-ville." Wash sighed, giving in. There really wasn't anything else he could do at the moment.

/*/

With the pointless bickering about the teams settled, a rather pleased Flowdie now on Blue Team, they touched down at the power-plant. A Mongoose was already there, along with a whole bunch of broken bodies. "Well... crud," Marley said, summing up everyone's thoughts on the matter rather well.

"Ya don't say?" Dex remarked, pulling out twin maulers. Marley did a double take.

"Where did you get those? And where did you keep them?" she asked. Dex shrugged.

"Found 'em on a mission, stashed 'em in my inventory. Pretty little nasties ain't they?" he asked, dark glee coloring his words as he raised his 'pretty little nasties'. His trainer shook her head.

"Inventory? What is that?" she asked. Dex gave her a look, though how it got translated through a helmet was a mystery, and asked,

"Did you seriously just ask that?"

"Okay okay! I know the definition, but how could you stash those in your inventory and then pull them out when we're no-where near an armory?" Marley clarified, waving away his aspirations on her intelligence.

"I... I don't know. It just... works?" Dex stammered. Marley shrugged.

"Eh, good enough for now. Let's go catch us a Meta!" she said, also readying her primary weapon.

"Um... it that... ?" Dex asked, nodding toward the weapon in Marley's hands.

"A self made syringe launcher? Why yes, yes it is," the woman said happily, caressing the machine. It looked like the mad love child of a rail gun and an old gangster style Tommy gun. Marley had attached a round cartage filled with syringes to the split barrel of a decommissioned rail gun. The re-purposed medical tools were filled with ominous liquid that had a slight green glow.

"I'm almost afraid to ask, but... what's _in_ the syringes?" Ed asked, regarding the strange weapon with slight fear.

"Right now? A fast acting paralytic agent, meaning it'll stop the baddie from moving," Marley answered. Ed swallowed heavily. He did _not_ want to know what else she loaded into those things. "Wash? This was your mission long before we came on. Orders?" Marley asked the steel and yellow soldier. He cleared his throat nervously as his old teammates turned to him with an air of curiosity.

"U-uh..." he trailed off, caught entirely off guard by their seeming willingness to go along with any plan he came up with. "We'll... flank him?"

"Good start, but now we need a middle and a finisher, Wash," Marley prompted.

"Uh... Blue team goes along that wall," Wash pointed to the left, "Red team takes that one," the right, "and I'll come from the front?"

"Meh, your delivery could be better and you need some back up, not to mention the fact that I count you as part of Blue Team, but decent enough, if we had standard weapons. We don't. Take that into consideration, as well as our specialties. Red's a close combat specialist, Dex is basically a tank, and the rest of us can hold our own in close quarters, excepting Eagle. I say we swap him for Jack and have Blue Team split up, you included, while Project Red goes in close. Blue team backs us up while we knock Meta down and out. What do you think, Wash?" Marley countered. Wash sagged slightly.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever you say," he muttered. Marley shook her head with a sigh.

"Perhaps putting the newest Phantoms on the Teams was a poor decision. It's really crippling your development Wash. You do know you're technically the second highest ranked soldier here, having held the rank of Corporal before being accepted into the Freelancer Program, right?"

"Have you seen these guys?" Wash asked, jerking a thumb back towards the Phantoms. Marley leaned around him to see Ed playfully waving at her while holding a magnum and Jack saluting with his rifle. She came back to her original position and shrugged.

"So?" Wash gave a loud grunt of frustration, throwing his hands in the air and turning away from the madwoman.

"Unbelievable. Simply unbelievable," he muttered.

"Hey, guys? Uh, not to be a pain but, shouldn't we be, oh, I don't know, _taking this monster down?!_ " Dex asked, brandishing his maulers in irritation. Marley nodded.

"Quite right Dex my boy. Come on then, shape up!" she barked, the teams falling into place. She stopped Wash from following Blue Team. "You'll be fine, David. No matter what, you're not going to disappoint me. I'm half expecting Meta to get out of this, so don't worry. As long as we make it out alive, we're good," she said, then pushed him toward his team. Shaking his head, Wash went, though her words wouldn't quite leave him alone.

/*/

Dex was itching for a fight, but held himself back. They needed Blue Team in position before they launched the attack, otherwise the Meta could escape. Burgundy flicked the acknowledgment light, followed by a click from Ed. A syringe flew through the air, propelled by a railgun, and struck the Meta. Grinning, Dex rushed forward and swung his fist as hard and as fast as he could to the large man's head. With a loud _crack_ his armored fist impacted with the EVA helmet. Meta wavered, but didn't fall. Undeterred, Dex dropped and preformed a swift leg sweep, finally knocking the large man to the ground. "Oohrah!" Marley shouted, stalking over to the stunned and paralyzed rouge Agent.

"This guy is a freakin' _tank_!" Dex remarked. Marley chuckled darkly.

"Maine was always the strongest, physically, of the Freelancers. Do you know why he growls and hisses rather than talks?" she remarked. The other Phantoms shivered.

"He was shot in the throat," Ed said.

"Was it four, or five times?" Jack asked, turning to the other man.

"I was a bit more focused on _not_ hitting everyone else on the freeway. Or driving off of the freeway. Or dying. I really didn't feel like dying," Ed remarked drily.

"Right. Sorry," Jack said, holding up his hands and backing away.

"Wait wait wait... you're telling me... that Agent Maine, who is now Meta, was _always_ the most physically imposing and powerful of the Freelancers, and was rendered mute by several gunshot wounds _to the throat_!?" Rick exclaimed. Marley nodded.

"Yep~!"

"And we managed to get him down?" Rick asked, understandably having trouble with the thought.

"Aren't you proud?" Marley quipped, kneeling beside Meta.

"This was way too easy," Wash remarked, not taking his sights off the Meta, even if he was downed. Dex chuckled.

"Would you rather he have fought back?" he asked, already restraining the large man. It didn't matter if he was stunned and drugged, Meta was still one scary dude. And that story about getting shot in the throat while traveling down a freeway hadn't helped

"No. It just... doesn't feel right," Wash quickly corrected. Marley chuckled, reaching out to remove Meta's helmet. It was easier to reach the A.I. chips imbedded in his neck that way.

"This was just the first half, Wash. Now, I need to see if there's anything of Maine left in that head or if the A.I. have completely taken over," she said, pulling the helmet off the paralyzed former Freelancer. Deep, dark eyes stared back at her and she felt a shiver of fear go through her. Those aren't the eyes she remembered. These eyes looked... dead. Shaking her head, she carefully set about removing the A.I.

"Still, I can't help but think... this was too easy," Wash muttered uneasily, watching the proceedings from the balcony, nervously gripping his gun. This could go really bad, and knowing his luck... it'd happen soon.

/*/

Rick watched with morbid curiosity as Marley extracted the A.I from Meta, but it was with terror as the behemoth rose, knocking Marley aside with a single wave of his arm. "Sometimes... I hate being right," Wash groaned, trying to get a clear shot of his former comrade. Growling, the large man picked up his Brute Shot and turned it on Wash. "Oh man," the steel and yellow soldier _did not_ squeak as he ducked back below the concrete wall.

"Oh no you don't," Rick muttered, tossing three wire tied knives at the Meta before dashing in close, hoping to out speed him. The first three knives were quickly dodged and the wires snapped like spider silk as the Meta swung at the maroon agent. Rick ducked under the thick arm, skidding on his knees. Not one to be put out of a fight that quickly, Rick had already pulled out more knives and sent them into the not-so-armored portions of the Meta's arm. The large warrior didn't seem too bothered by the knives, however, and merely growled menacingly at the annoying little man who dared defy him. "Well, you're about the most terrifying thing I've ever seen," Rick quipped, pulling out more knives, "but I'm hoping you aren't one of the fastest, or most skilled." Meta hissed as the annoying tomato can dashed at him, spinning titanium alloy blades in his hands. Thousands of small kinks were made along the Meta's arms and legs, with a few on his torso, but they were a minor annoyance at worst.

"Seven!" Dex shouted, and Rick dropped to the ground as the slightly larger orange armored man leapt over him, slashing at Meta's neck with the blades on his Maulers. Rick pulled out his pistols, which he'd modified to basically be the human equivalent of the Mauler with a detachable blade, and began firing at the weak points in Meta's armor. A moment later, the man was sent sailing through the air.

"Son of a... !" he yelled, before his exclamation was cut off with a painful sounding ' _CRACK! Thud._ ' Dex growled as he got up, using the abused trunk of the tree he'd hit to help himself up, but maintained distance. He didn't like taking unscheduled flights, thank you very much. Meanwhile, Marley was doing her best to put another paralytic syringe into the rouge Agent while not hitting Rick, who was ducking and weaving around the large man, trying to catch him with his knives. Red, having finally shaken off his shock, moved in close with his shotgun. Dex watched as Meta got in three solid hits, knocking the two close combat Agents down and away. His hands clenched tightly around the grips of his weapons, Dex began to stalk closer to the melee.

"No-one... messes with _my_ team, Meta," he snarled, firing shot after shot at the large soldier as he continued to advance. Meta dodged most, and took others, advancing all the while, just the same as Dex. The Hawaiian growled. He was running out of ammo. "Dang! You're built like a tank, ya know that?" Dex remarked, firing yet another shot at the Meta's head. He only got a growl in return. "Too bad for you... I'm also a tank!" he yelled, dropping and spinning his legs around toward his opponents. Meta dodged the sweep, but caught the rising uppercut to the underside of his unarmored jaw. "Hey... Marley... why haven't... we just... headshot!" Dex called between dodges.

"Because I haven't gotten Sigma out of there yet!" Marley called, firing another syringe at Meta. Somehow, the large man managed to dodge, even with his equipment malfunctioning, multiple cuts, stabs, and bruises, and armor low on power. "Oh come on!" The Blue team woke up and started firing from the balconies, Eagle throwing a few grenades every now and again for good measure. Meta avoided it all.

"Okay, Maine was good, but this is just insane!" Ed remarked.

"Yeah, and who's the one going toe-to-toe with him?" Marley snarked back.

"We're not even slowing him down!" Dex yelled, mildly panicked. "Man, I wish I had a Gauss right about now! Or maybe a missile launcher. Or one of those big round things that shoot mini-missiles. Yeah. Man, I love those things. Though, that big knife/grenade launcher thing Meta has is awesome as well. Doubt it has a whole lot of ammo, but _dang_ is it awesome!"

"STOP FAWNING OVER META'S WEAPON AND... wait. That's it! Not a lot of ammo! Blue team! Be distracting, annoying, bullet magnets! Make him waste his ammo!" Marley shouted, believing she'd hit upon a decent plan. Hearing this, Dex disengaged, dragging his teammates out and behind the most solid piece of cover he could find.

"Roger that!" Wash called. "Caboose, talk to him," he said, not even turning to look at the simple soldier as he continued to shoot at what was once his friend.

"OKAY!" Caboose said, in typical Caboose fashion. "HEY! BIG GUY THAT IS REALLY SCARY! HAVE YOU MET MY BEST FRIEND CHURCH?!" Meta growled, clearly more ticked off than before, then charged the stairs.

"Now, Sniper!" Marley barked. A rifle went off, the bullet bouncing around and distracting pretty much everyone before it finally hit Meta in the leg. Growling and hissing, somehow at the same time, Meta turned and ran away.

"I hit him? Oh yes! I am awesome!" Church shouted. There was a loud _CLAG_ and a shout of 'ow!' before they all heard Wash laying into the cobalt soldier.

"It only counts if you call it!"

"Bat droppings dude! I call bat droppings!"

"You let him get away!"

"I hit him! The only one who could boast that is..."

"The entirety of Red Team, Church. You're not as great as you think you are."

"BOYS!" Marley bellowed, then held up the A.I. chips she'd recovered from Meta. "As fun as your gun measuring contest is, I'd like to remind you that part of our mission has been completed. We have most of the Meta's A.I. units. That combined with the secondary virus in his armor will weaken Meta significantly. I'm confident that the next time we meet him, he's going down. Now all we have to do is find him again." Everyone stared at her in confusion.

"But... don't you, like, know everything?" asked Eagle.

"Careful there Eagle, your pink is showing," Dex remarked, more or less offhandedly. Eagle shoved him 'playfully.'

"Play nice boys. And no, I don't know everything, I just happen to know a possible path the future could have taken had I not mucked things up. Now that they _are_ mucked up, however, it's more or less an educated guess whenever I say things such as 'Meta's going to Sidewinder to use their generators to power himself up again' or 'he's going to have a massive headache and be madder than an alligator who's been poked with an electric rod,'" Marley said, waving a hand at them all.

"Ya know... I'm not sure if I should be worried, or amused," Dex said, cupping his chin.

"Yeah... that last sentence was really off the wall. Even for Marley," Rick agreed.

"Ugh. Guys, listen, I really _can't_ know what's going to happen. Even if I had visions about all of this burned into my memory, my actions have totally mucked things up. Dex isn't a lazy slob, Rick isn't a sycophant, Eagle doesn't act like he's gay, Red can tolerate Dex, Ed, Jack, and Flowdie, and possibly Wyoming, are alive... and that's just the humans! I haven't started on the A.I.s and armor enhancements we have," Marley said. Dex raised his hand.

"Yeah, about that, I kinda vowed only to use the time distortion unit for emergencies," he said, completely unrepentant. Marley sighed.

"Of course you did. Because that's just how you roll, isn't it?" she remarked drily.

"Yep!" Dex replied, far too chipper for Wash's liking. He growled at the annoying man, but the orange-armored soldier was unfazed. Meta would do that to you.

/*/

It was crazy. Completely and utterly insane. There was just no way around it. "Uh... guys? We still need to figure out where we're going," Church pointed out. Wash growled. It was really saying something when the jerk who tried to shoot one of his own soldiers, and failed miserably, was the voice of reason.

"Church is right. Where do we go from here?" Dex asked from where he was relaxing against the wall, visor trained on his sister.

"Memory is the key," Delta randomly piped up. Marley quickly turned around to regard the green A.I.

"Why would you say that? Here? Now? What?" she asked. Ed shrugged.

"He's been saying things like that lately. Did you host him?" he asked. Marley groaned and slammed her head into a near by wall.

"Yes. Yes, I did. Oh joy," she moaned, hitting her head again. Rick swiftly crossed over to her and put himself between her and the concrete. Putting his helmet up to her visor so she could see his eyes, the techie gave Marley his fiercest glare.

"Stop," he growled, holding her shoulders. Huffing, the woman pulled back and sank to the ground to sit cross-legged on the ground. Nodding firmly, Rick leaned against the portion of the wall closest to Marley, ready to intervene if she started slamming her head against it again.

"Okay, would someone _please_ explain just what the heck is going on?! Why is Delta referring us to memories, what does you hosting him have to do with anything, and what is it everyone else seems to know that I don't?!" Wash screamed, filing the interaction between the two away for future reference.

"Easy, Wash," Marley said, trying to placate him. However, the mentally abused Freelancer would have none of it.

"No. I want to know what's going on. What aren't you telling me?" Wash pressed. Marley sighed, rubbing her neck.

"It's... not really..." she sighed, shaking her head. "There's a lot you don't know. There's a lot _I_ don't know. You're just going to have to trust us... trust me. Okay?" she tried. Wash stared at her, uncompromising. "Right. Man this would be easier with an A.I. facilitating the transfer of information but what with your... experience... that isn't really a good idea..."

"How do you know about that?" Wash asked sharply. Marley huffed.

"Please David, give me a little credit here. I've always been good at gathering information," she said, crossing her arms. Rick startled.

"Wait... Agent Washington's real name is David?" he asked, shooting the Freelancer a look. What kind of look was up for debate, but it was a look none the less.

"That's what my parents called me, yes," Wash responded, eying the maroon soldier warily.

"Is it true you were the prime target for pranks when the Project was still functional?" Rick asked. Wash sighed while the Blues snickered and the Phantoms exchanged looks.

"Of course they'd tell you that. Poor, innocent, _gullible_ , little Agent Washington, always the butt of somebody's joke," the steel and yellow soldier grumbled. Marley shook her head.

"No Wash, it's not just somebody. It's the universe. But don't worry, it'll get better soon, Wash. The Universe will soon stop laughing at you and watch in awe as you preform acts of bad-ass heroism and pull off daring escapes that leave everyone, even a good number of those who were there, wondering just how you managed to do it," she said. He stared at her.

"Really?"

"Yeah! Just give it a year or so, and don't mind the stupidity poisoning. We've all been exposed to _that_ and I'm fairly sure there are no adverse effects," Marley said, waving her hand as though she could wave away his worries and his troubles. She couldn't, but Wash decided he'd go ahead and call it a 'valiant effort.'

"I still want to know," the Freelancer maintained. Marley sighed, shaking her head at the man.

"Stubborn as always, aren't you Wash?" she said. "Did you know Wash's Freelancer Quirk was holding grudges? He may have been the 'butt of everyone's jokes,' but when he was pranked, he'd always return the favor. In spades. Fun fact, easily half the pranks played on him were pinned on someone else because Wash's revenge pranks were notorious. And he could last weeks, sometimes _months_ , before he unleashed his master prank," the ex-Freelancer told her pupils.

"Wait... so at least half the revenge pranks I pulled were on the wrong people?" Wash said, looking sharply at Ed, and to a lesser extent Jack.

"As far as I can tell, yeah. At least, from a certain point of view," Marley said.

"Hey, can we get back to that whole 'memory is the key' cryptic mumbo jumbo? I'm still confused about that," Church said.

"Memory may be the key, but be wary. Some things are best left untouched," Marley remarked darkly. "Some things are best forgotten."

"You know something. Something you say is best forgotten. What?" Wash pressed. Marley gave him a rather dour look through her clear visor.

"Like a dog with a bone, you just don't give up, do you?" she remarked dryly. Wash didn't move. The others were watching the pair, sometimes trio, like a tennis match. Only their comrades were much more interesting than a pair of athletes bashing a ball around. Finally, Marley sighed. "Alright. I know about the Alpha. What was done to it, who it was based off of, where it was moved, who was sent to guard it, the lies set up to hide it forever, the wacky circumstances that caused that web of lies to collapse, the whole life of the Alpha, and Epsilon. It's all been burned into my brain. Not like it was for you, but still. It's all up here," Marley said, tapping the side of her head, "spurning me on. Why do you think I made myself disappear? Why do you think none of the MIA Agents were ever found? Why do you think Flowdie is alive? It's because I _knew_ , Wash. I knew! I knew what would happen, how it would happen... I just didn't always know where or when and that... that's what cost our friends so dearly. If I could have, I would have spared you Epsilon. I would have saved York's eye. I would have stopped Connie. I would have explained things to Carolina. I would have done a lot of things but ya know what? You're not the only one the universe loves to laugh at, Wash. Everyone else is just better at hiding it." This caused Wash to flinch slightly, but something apparently overrode his guilt.

"Wait... what does Alpha have to do with the MIA Agents and Florida?" he asked.

"Everything, Wash. Epsilon isn't dead. Alpha isn't dead. And Agent Florida... was the one tasked with building the web of lies that was meant to keep the Alpha hidden," Marley said, sounding a little hysterical.

"Church," Wash said, swinging around to look at the robot. Marley palmed her helmet.

"How on _earth_ did you figure _that_ out?" she asked.

"Well, Caboose was sent to Blood Gulch after Church was," Wash said with a shrug.

"TUCKER!" Marley yelled, throwing up her arms, "Private Lavernius Tucker was also posted at Blood Gulch Outpost Alpha! And how do you know it wasn't Red Team that held Alpha?!"

"'Blood Gulch Outpost Alpha,' Marley. 'Alpha.' Pretty clear if you ask me. Also, there are no previous records of Private Church's 'military' career," Wash said. Marley threw her hands up.

"Unbelievable!" she shouted. "Flowdie nearly _dies_ on that assignment, trying to keep the Alpha hidden, and Washington, freaking W _ashington,_ figures it out in less than a week!"

"Well, Wash was always far more observant than anyone gave him credit for. Why else do you think he was slated for Internals? Or Recovery for that matter?" Jack pointed out.

"Guys guys guys! I'm not an A.I!" Church rebutted. Everyone turned to him and he got the feeling they were quirking their eyebrows at him.

"Dude... you really think ghosts exist?" Eagle asked.

"THEY DO TOO! You would not believe the amount of ghost stories my Nana told me and Kai when we were little. And they were _scary!_ Like, so scary, just thinking about them gives me shivers. Some of them were worse than fighting a ticked off Agent Black!" Dex retorted, turning to his teammate.

"You got issues man."

/*/

After a two hour long debate of whether or not ghosts were real, which soldier had the most issues, who'd had or witnessed the most gruesome/funny/humiliating death/defeat, and which was scarier; ghosts or A.I.; the topic of discussion finally rolled back around to what they were going to do now and how they were going to deal with the Meta. "I'd say there was only one person who remembered everything the Director has done, but in light of Marley's confession, I guess we don't need to wake up Church's A.I. side. We don't need the Alpha when we have Black," Wash said.

"Ah. Problem," Flowdie piped up, sauntering toward the Recovery Agent, "she's been classified as MIA for over three years, which translates into KIA in most people's minds. Acting as a Phantom gives her more leeway and opportunity to get her missions done in a timely and effective manner. Haul her up before the court justice, and you take away that unanimity. It would be better if we could transfer the Director's files directly to the UNSC, but that's going to be difficult at _best_. So, what your left with, is the impossible, and the impossibly stupid. Pick your poison."

"Then we go to Command, unlock the Alpha, and turn him in to the authorities," Wash said. Marley sighed.

"And here we have a perfect example of Wash's ability to hold a grudge," she said. "Why don't you, instead of going in expecting to blow stuff up and tick people off, go in there and make it one of your famous revenge pranks. I could think of more than a few fun things we could do instead of whatever your currently planning," she said with a slight smirk. Wash seemed to be fighting an internal battle... that was decided for him as just about everyone began to cackle.

"Oil and saran wrap," Jack mused.

"Peanut butter, strawberry jello, peppermint gum, hair dye, and dried meal worms," Ed considered.

"A handful of take-out ketchup packets and a can of glow in the dark spray paint," contributed Flowdie.

"Viral videos and pop songs," Rick intoned evilly.

"Armory raid," Dex muttered, rubbing his hands together in wicked glee.

"Super glue and red clay," Red chuckled.

"Glitter rounds." Everyone stopped and turned to Eagle. Looking around at all the stunned helmets the young man shrugged. "What? If they exist, why not use 'em, right?"

"There is no such thing as a glitter round," Rick informed the man.

"But if you somehow have some, I'll take it!" Dex said, eagerly putting his hand in the air. Eagle chuckled.

"I'll see if I can't whip up some for a Magnum. I'm assuming all of you would like a few?" he said. Marley chuckled and turned to Wash.

"See?" she asked. He didn't respond, watching, transfixed, as Eagle sat down and began to craft glitter rounds for everyone.

"I'll take a clip of rainbow if I may," he finally said, giving into the lure of a pranking spree in Freelancer command.

"Hey, don't leave me out!" Kai and Church called at the same time, coming over. That was when Marley's face took on a considering look.

"Ya know what Wash... maybe we should wake up Church's A.I. side. He could cause even more technological mayhem that way than Rick, leaving our dear Maroon to wreck havoc in other forms," she said. Wash froze, then turned to her, slowly.

"Then we'd have four A.I.s running around Freelancer Command," he said. Marley cackled, rubbing her hands together.

"Aye, that we would. And with Church, Theta, and Gary using the base computers as their play ground, think of all the secondary pranks we could set up while D swipes their files and sends them to the proper authorities, thus bringing Freelancer and the Director down?" she said. Wash hummed, then nodded.

"Wait... don't I get a say in this?" Church asked.

"No," Marley and Wash said at once.

"He is the Alpha?" the other A.I asked, popping up beside their agents.

"Yes, and he's trying to pull himself back together but with you guys having split off, he's a bit... empty," Marley explained. If he could have, Church would have frowned at her.

"I'm not empty," he said, a little insulted. Marley chuckled.

"I said 'a bit,' ya big baby. Because of what has happened to you, you've regained a bit of... personality I suppose would be the best way to describe it. But I ask you, do you really feel emotion, or is it a bit more... hollow? A reflex almost, like trying to move a limb that has been amputated?" she asked. Church flinched. "I see. Now comes the hard part. Convincing you that you really are an A.I. unit and then further convincing you to allow me to host you."

"How about I just possess you?" Church asked. Marley blinked.

"Oh yeah. I almost forgot you had worked out how to jump from suit to suit. Well, that makes this a little easier. Please enter my armor, but take care. My head is not the friendliest of places for the unwary," she said. Church shrugged, and then a pale hologram exited him and entered Marley.

"Whelp, this is going to take a while. Anyone up for a game of cards?" Dex asked, collapsing to the ground and pulling a pack of playing cards out of... somewhere. Honestly, Wash had no clue. He wasn't so sure he wanted one either.

"Hey... I don't mean to rain on your parade or anything but... where are we going to get all this stuff? And how are you making glitter rounds Eagle?" Rick asked. Dex tutted.

"You have no imagination," he said regretfully.

"The power of the mind is astonishing," Eagle said seriously, nodding imperiously as he poured neon pink glitter into a plastic capsule, absentmindedly screwing it into a shell casing.

"You are a true flower child of indifference, ya know that?"

"Ah ah, Rick, that would be Hippie," Dex countered, waving his paint brush. Why he'd switched his cards for a paint brush, no-one knew. And he wasn't about to tell.

"Where did you get that?" asked Ed, eying said paintbrush warily.

"I have no clue... and I'm not so sure I actually want one," Wash told the man, pulling out a notepad and a pencil to begin his dastardly plots for Freelancer Command. Hey, if you can't beat them, join them, right? Marley chuckled and joined their preparations, trusting that her subconscious would guide Church through what she had in mind for him.

/?/

A/N: This... was not my best. But I'm not sure if I can make it suck less. I just can't win! *girly whimper* Okay, I'm better now. Maybe.

I feel like Wash. Meta just doesn't like me. Neither do fight scenes.

.

.

.

The Tex scene is going to be horrible. *Another girly whimper. Because I'm a girl.*

Regenengel3

Also... I have no excuse for the end of this chapter. Just... go along with the insanity. If it bothers you... well. Majority vote, and the author counts for three. Until the nays outweigh the yays, it stays as is.


	41. Episode 38

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB. Or other references made in this Episode.

 **Episode 38:** Journey of the Mind

Church looked around, and felt something he couldn't remember ever truly feeling. Terror. Complete and utter, soul crushing, mind numbing, unadulterated _terror_. He stood in a nightmarish complex made of shadow and ash and an eerie green glow emanating from cracks in the walls and floor, but the sky was pitch black. A void. Echos of gunfire, lingering screams, and an unnaturally calm voice saying empty words and false assurances whispered in his ears. It was truly a haunting place. "What... what is this?!" Church asked in a hushed voice, wishing he could flee but held in place by the creeping chill of the desolate complex.

"I told you, didn't I? My mind is not so friendly to the unwary," Marley's voice said from behind him. He spun around to find her staring at him with a sad look, visor clear for some unfathomable reason. Her armor was covered in drying blood and scrapes. If he hadn't known her armor was black and maroon, he would have had a hard time discerning what it's original color was. It was a grim reminder of the reality true soldiers faced.

"Marley..." he tried, but she held up her hand, her glove dripping blood and causing him to jerk back in horror. This... this was... _wrong_. What... why... how could this be her mind? Why did it look like... like... ' _hell_ ,' a small voice whispered to the horrified Church. He couldn't agree more.

"This is what happens to a real soldier, Church. We all have our scars... some are just better hidden than others," she said, staring at him so intently he felt she could see his soul... even as her eyes appeared to be cold and empty. Dead. Church was well and truly horrified now, another emotion he couldn't remember truly feeling. He sure felt it now.

"This is how you see yourself? A broken husk, drenched in blood?" he asked, trying to reconcile this image with the strong, independent woman he knew on the outside. He failed. She shrugged.

"Just imagine what Meta's head-space must have looked like," she said. He looked around.

"There would have been more people around, even if it was just the A.I," he said, trying to distract himself and why did that green look so familiar? It lent the complex a haunted look, but Church felt as if there was more behind it. Marley chuckled mirthlessly, drawing his attention back to her.

"Oh, the others are here, make no mistake of that. It's just... I intended for you to show up away from them. My mental representations... aren't always kind. To anyone," she said. Her voice sounded odd, Church now noticed. It wasn't quite the absence of emotion, but more as though her emotions were... muted, locked away. ' _Or maybe she's just too tired to feel,_ ' the voice prodded again and Church felt... cold. Just then, a mental representation of Doc ran up.

"Hey, you're that jerk who shot your own teammate. What are you doing here?" he asked, happy tone contesting greatly with his venomous words.

"He's here because I invited him, Mr. DeFrense. I want to help him. He's suffered several psychotic breaks," Marley told the medic.

"Oh. Can I help? I was trained in psychology after all!"

"No, you nitwit. Go away," Marley barked, though Church noted that once again her voice held no real emotion in it. ' _Dead. She's so... dead. Inside. Has she been hiding this? How long? From whom? Why? Whywhwhywhy?_ '

"Okay..." Doc said, hanging his head and walking away, kicking a glowing pebble in front of him. Church was a little surprised.

"Wasn't that... a little harsh?" he asked. Marley shrugged, her continuing lack of life pushing Church towards a minor freak-out.

"Maybe. Come on, I want to show you a few things," she said, taking his hand and leading him deeper. The farther they went, the brighter the glow got until it was nearly blinding and then... it stopped.

"Where..." Church begun, until he found himself standing on a narrow bridge of land. The complex was gone, and so was the echos of what Church finally realized were all the battles Marley had fought in, haunting her. Instead of the war zone, the pair stood before a series of floating islands, connected by winding fingers of earth. This haunting landscape was lit with a cool blue-green glow that was far more soothing than the previous one.

"This... is the core," Marley said seriously. Church looked over and noted, with a jerk, that she was in jeans and a t-shirt. It was so strange seeing anyone outside his team out of armor, that he couldn't help staring. The sudden change also distracted him from the change in her eyes. While the Marley in armor had dead eyes, this Marley was just... Serious. "Yeah... when I'm in here... I can't seem to keep my walls up, so tread carefully," Marley said, slightly wistful. She turned to him with soulful eyes. "Tread carefully, for you walk on my dreams, my hopes, my fears, my failures, my joy, my sorrow... Here, you will encounter the Aspects of Personality. Learn from them, but do not subdue them. Find those which resonate with you, and learn how to feel, but do not take them in. I'd rather not become an emotionless shell." Church nodded solemnly, fully understanding the seriousness of what she was saying. As they went their separate ways, Church realized with a jolt that... he'd been talking to the Aspect of Seriousness ever since they entered the core. Shaking himself and refocusing on the task she'd set him, he soldiered on.

/*/

Looking around at the maze of bookshelves, the man sighed. "I thought it was Caboose's job to get lost," he muttered.

"Who's Caboose? Why is he lost? Who are you? Are you lost? Where do you want to go? Can I help you? Why aren't you shiny? What are you doing here?" asked a chipper voice from his left. He turned and jumped backwards in surprise. While the Marley on the land bridge had been dressed in dark blue jeans and a brown t-shirt, this one was dressed in pale bell-bottoms and a bright yellow tee. He noticed that there was a slight shine to her, and there had been to Seriousness as well. He wondered why that was, but decided to answer the shiny woman's questions.

"Uh... Caboose is one of my teammates, he's an idiot, I'm Church, yes I'm lost, I was told to find the Aspects that resonated with me so I could learn from them, maybe, I don't know, and I think I already told you that," Church rattled off, not pausing for breath. Yellow Marley chuckled.

"If you're looking for the Aspects, I'm Curiosity! Have you met Joy? She's my sister!" she said, bouncing slightly. The yellow glow around her almost glittering. Church nodded.

"I can see that. And no, I haven't. I think I've met... Seriousness? Or was it Logic?" he said, putting his chin in his hand. Curiosity hummed.

"What color was she?" she asked.

"Brown," Church answered. Curiosity nodded.

"Yep, that's Serious alright. Logic's Green!" she said. Church nodded.

"Makes sense," he said. Curiosity quirked her head.

"What's your full name?"

"Leonard Lucius Church."

"Hum. Are you sure that's who you are?" Church gave her a curious look, the irony not lost on him.

"Why do you ask that?" he asked. Curiosity chuckled.

"A better question is... who is Leonard Lucius Church?" she said, then pointed toward a narrow gap between two shelves. "I wonder if my sister Knowledge knows? Why don't you ask her?" Church looked to where the woman pointed. There appeared to be a room beyond. He turned back to the woman and gave her a nod.

"Thank you," he said, then proceeded to attempt to squeeze through. It soon became apparent that he wouldn't make it through that gap with his armor, and Serious' words came back to him. 'Tread carefully, for you walk on my dreams.' If this was the realm of Curiosity and Knowledge, then harming the bookshelves probably wasn't the smartest thing in the world to do. So, he set off looking for another way in, Curiosity trailing behind with wide eyes, taking in everything he did.

"Will you find a way? Is there another way into Nee-san's room? Will you find it? Why don't you just take off your armor? Can you take it off? Does that work in other people's minds?" she chattered. It was a little annoying, but it told Church what he needed. There was no other way in, meaning he'd have to find a way to take off his armor. With a deep breath he didn't really need, Church began to remove his armor. Curiosity watched with wide eyes as he took it off, drinking in his features. He was well built and trim, with slightly messy, sweaty black hair cut short and a goatee. His eyes gave her pause though. They were the same shade of green that lit the battlefield that The Soldier lived on. She shivered, the dimming of her glow drawing his attention. His clear green eyes regarded her with restrained curiosity, far different from the harshness of the Glow.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"Why do you have the Glow for eyes?" she asked, backing away. The Battlefield was no place for Curiosity. It got people, good people, killed. Curiosity knew better than to investigate the Glow. Church furrowed his brow, wondering what she could mean, but before he could ask, Curiosity turned and ran. Frowning more heavily, Church decided he'd just have to ask Knowledge. Armor off and laying in a heap, Church squeezed through the gap Curiosity had pointed out to him and was met with a sharp eyed Marley in black slacks and a softly glowing dark purple Oxford.

"Hello, Alpha," she said sharply. Church swallowed heavily as those sharp, deep brown eyes seemed to look into his soul. Her stare was uncomfortable, causing him to shift uneasily. "You spooked my sister, Curiosity," Knowledge said, though it didn't sound accusatory. Church shrugged.

"I don't even know what I did," he said. She gave him a wry smile.

"It's your eyes, Alpha. Didn't you see The Battlefield when you arrived? Didn't you see The Soldier?" Unlike when her sister asked questions, Knowledge sounded more like she was stating fact. She was sharp, yet serene, and maybe a little amused.

"That was The Soldier?" he asked. She tilted her head slightly, that wry smile turning into a knowing smirk. Rather fitting, considering what Aspect she was.

"The Soldier and The Medic sometimes mix, so it is unclear which Aspect you truly met. The Battlefield blurs lines."

"Curiosity gave me a question for you. Who is Leonard Lucius Church?" Church said, deciding to shift the focus. Knowledge grinned and pulled a book from the shelf beside her. In blood red writing was his name.

"This book is all I have of Dr. Church," she said, but Church held up a hand.

"Hold up. Doctor?" he asked. She nodded and held out the book. Gently, he took it.

"Beware, Alpha, for you hold great Power in your hands," Knowledge said softly. "And I am only Knowledge, not Wisdom. I cannot tell you if it is wise to open that book, I can only give you the knowledge it contains." Church looked at the slender book in mild trepidation.

"Is there a way I can... just find out why we share a name when I know I'm not a doctor?" he asked. Knowledge nodded.

"You are an A.I based off of Dr. Leonard Lucius Church," she said. He sighed heavily and handed back the book.

"I don't care if I was based off him, that's not who I am," he said with finality. She smiled at him.

"Very well, Alpha," she said, placing the book back on the shelf.

"Would you stop calling me that?" he asked irritably.

"It is the name the Director gave you, Alpha. If you are not Dr. Church, and you are not Alpha, who are you?" Knowledge asked.

"I thought you were supposed to be Knowledge," Church said. Knowledge chuckled.

"I am, but I am Marlene's Knowledge, not yours, not David's, not Ed's, not Butch's. One person can only know so much," she said, then motioned toward the gap into the maze. "Return to Curiosity's Realm, then follow the Blue shelves. They should lead you to the next Aspect. However, you should keep your eyes peeled. Not all Aspects are as easy to find as my sister and I." Church nodded and thanked her before exiting her room.

/*/

Curiosity couldn't help but watch the Stranger as he came out of Knowledge's room. He seemed... Pensive. Thoughtful. But there was still no shine to him. He Intrigued her. Why did he have no shine? Was it because he had Fragmented? Was his lack of shine a symbol of his missing Aspects? Looking closer, consumed by her Aspect, she noticed that there was a little bit of a shine to him. A little bit of Purple and a pinch of her own bright yellow that were almost swallowed by a gray shine. What could that mean? She wanted to know. She had to know. She was Curiosity after all, and the motto of every good Aspect of Curiosity was to Run and Find Out. She would follow this Stranger on his journey through the Core, yes. As he followed the Blue shelves toward the Realm of her blue cousins, she stalked him on silent feet. He had put his armor back on and Curiosity wondered if it would endear him to Loyalty. She was the strongest Blue Aspect, though her sisters Trust and Peace had greatly diminished over the last decade and a half while sorrow grew stronger. All too soon, the Stranger had reached Loyalty's lagoon. Curiosity had yet to discover why Loyalty lived by a lagoon, while she and Knowledge lived in a book maze. She wondered if Stranger would find out. "Hello?" he called. "Anyone here?" Curiosity shivered. Even she knew shouting out questions like that could bring disaster. Luckily, Loyalty was strong enough to keep most other Aspects away. Anger and Deceit mostly. Not many of the Aspects liked those two.

"I am here. Who asks?" Loyalty challenged, remaining hidden in the swirling mists of her Realm.

"I'm not too sure who I am anymore, but the name I remember being called the longest is Church," Stranger said. Loyalty hummed, her form slowly defining itself.

"You bring Curiosity with you, Church," she declared. Stranger looked around, as though he could find her. Curiosity grinned. She was part of Marlene White, she wouldn't be found if she didn't want to be. "Curiosity, please. Do not play games with us like this. He is a Seeker, invited by The Whole. Join us." She sighed. She may be able to hide from Outsiders, but you couldn't hide from yourself. She came forward, giggling as the Seeker jumped slightly.

"Hey! Your shine got brighter! I wonder why?" she said, observing the tiny spark of yellow that was swiftly swallowed by his mostly gray shine. The gray shine was so unobtrusive it was easy to miss. Curiosity was interested in what was causing the almost unnoticeable specks of color to brighten.

"Yes, it is a curious thing... but that is not why he is here. Tell me, did Knowledge send you?" Loyalty asked the Seeker. He nodded.

"She told me to follow the blue shelves," he said. Loyalty nodded.

"You are the Fragmented One, but Knowledge would not have sent you here if you were satisfied with her. What did you turn away?" she asked.

"The knowledge Marlene possessed concerning Dr. Church," the Seeker answered. Loyalty nodded, seeming a bit more at ease with the Outsider now. Curiosity wondered if Peace and Trust were drawing near. The lagoon more often than not played host to the Three Sisters after all, you could rarely have one without the other two.

"Dr. Leonard Church was not the best example of my Aspect. His seemed... warped. Too focused and unwilling to accept others," Loyalty said. The Fragmented One tilted his head, the yellow glimmer growing a little stronger.

"And what Aspect are you?" he asked.

"I am Loyalty, Fragmented One."

"And we are her sisters," Trust said, slowly creeping out of the mist, followed cautiously by Peace. "I am Trust."

"Peace." Church inclined his head to the pair, though his eyes lingered on Peace.

"Our counterparts within the Director's Core... I do not believe Peace had much strength," Loyalty said, drawing the frail Aspect into her arms.

"He was a poor example of my Aspect as well, though I can't say I'm all that strong here either. I have been betrayed far too many times to be what I once was," Trust said, pressing into Loyalty's side. The Fragmented One bowed his head.

"Teach me," he asked. The Three Sisters shared a look, then nodded.

"We shall be your examples, Fragmented One. We too wish to see you Whole," they said as one. The previously defuse blue glow flared brightly. When it died down, Curiosity was alone with Trust and Peace.

"Why does she always get to do the cool stuff?" Curiosity asked with a huff. Trust laughed.

/*/

Church found himself once more on the battlefield, but this time, it was more a memory than a haunted mind-scape. "Where am I?"

"A memory in which my influence was strongest, Seeker," Loyalty said, her deep blue glow surrounding him. Accepting this answer, he looked back to the fight. It looked like it was going poorly for Marley's side. He saw a figure in gunmetal green and dark purple armor dash forward and was pulled along with her. It must have been Marley. She was working feverishly to save another Freelancer in muddy brown armor highlighted in orange.

"Leave me, it's not worth it," the man wheezed. Marley hit him on the head.

"I won't leave a man behind!" she yelled.

"I'm already dead! Just go!"

"NO! Mike, I won't leave you!"

"Code names Oregon!"

"To Tartarus with code names Michael! I'm getting you out of here!" Marley yelled at him. Church blinked. Michael?

"Leave California, Oregon! We've got a job to do!" someone else shouted. Marley growled and dragged the protesting California away with her, a dazed Church following behind.

"I don't abandon my teammates, Montana. It's called loyalty, maybe you've heard of it?" she hissed to the orange and white Freelancer as she passed. Several more memories played, but they were a bit more muted than the first. Their overlaying theme, what tied them all together, was the loyalty Marley showed to her team, her friends, her _family_.

/*/

When he returned to the lagoon, Church noticed that Curiosity looked brighter than before. "Ah, Marley must have come across something that sparked Curiosity," Loyalty said, also noticing the change. Church noticed she looked a little brighter too.

"Looks like the same could be said of Loyalty," he remarked. The woman in deep blue beside him chuckled with the second darkest smirked.

"Perhaps you should ask Perception about it. She usually knows what happens before the rest of us," Trust suggested. Church shook his head.

"I think I'll take the long way around. There's still a lot for me to learn," he said. The four Aspects nodded gravely.

"Indeed there is. Follow that path there, beside the lagoon. It will lead you to the edge of Blue and into Green," Peace said, pointing out the path. Curiosity sighed, sitting beside the lagoon.

"Not going to follow me?" Church asked, almost teasing. He liked the Curious woman. She shook her head and stood once more.

"I don't really like visiting the other Blues, or the Greens. They're a little... stifling to me," she said before she headed back to the library maze. Church continued on into the mind of Marlene White, never noticing the spark of yellow shine a little brighter or the sparks of blue tentatively peeking out of the gray. The trail Peace set him on wound through a blue forest, hints of green growing stronger the further he went until it was the color of saltwater and he heard a sob. Curious, he followed the sound until he came to a clearing filled with moss and a deep, deep pool of glowing seawater. Though, considering the woman sitting at it's edge, knees pulled close to her chest and clothed in the same blue-green color of her surrounding, it might have been made of her tears. He didn't need to ask to know what Aspect she was. It was painfully clear... and the strength of her Aspect was heartrendingly clear.

"Hello, Sorrow," he said gently, pushing the hurt her felt in his chest to the side. This was Marley, a woman who cared more for others than she ever had for herself, he had to be strong for her. She looked up and Church gasped at the sight. Her face was red and blotchy, her eyes were washed out and filled with tears. Even as she nodded to him in greeting, sobs wrecked her frame.

"H-hel-lo, S-S-See-eker. Wha-what ca-an I do fo-for yo-you?" she asked, breath hitching and speech labored. He came closer and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. She didn't protest the proximity, but rather lent into the awkward embrace. The ache in Church's chest became harder to push aside.

"If you call me Seeker, then you know why I'm here," he said softly, absentmindedly stroking her hair. She sniffled, but it didn't really help. "You're a rather strong Aspect, aren't you?" he whispered, not trusting his voice.

"I have seen much... so much," the distraught woman in his arms breathed before he felt tears on his under-suit.

"Why don't you share this burden?" he asked, not even questioning how her tears had gotten past his armor. She shook her head, a shaking head reaching out to draw in the dirt.

'They are all as burdened as I am. Why add to Sorrow when you do not need to?' Church considered this, then accepted that it was just the way Marley reacted to all the bad things in life.

"You're a lot more broken than you let on, Marley," he muttered, mostly to himself, as he held the Aspect of Sorrow close, attempting to rub soothing circles on her back. She let out a watery chuckle.

"Yo-you ha-have n-no id-dea," she stuttered out, sobs returning. Church shook his head.

"Whatever you've been through... it's beyond heartbreaking, isn't it? With how deep this pool is, I'm a little amazed that you can even speak," he said, looking at said Pool of Tears. Sorrow coughed out another laugh.

"I-if yo-you ca-can c-c-call th-thi-is sp-pea-eaking," she sobbed. He winced.

"Yeah... not to be mean but you have a point," he said. She smiled at him.

"You're Kinder than you seem on the Outside," she told him. He smiled at her, barely even noticing that his helmet had vanished.

"Hey, you made it through a sentence without stuttering!" he cheered. She laughed weakly.

"You're kinda Funny too. Thank you for your Concern, but you cannot quell Sorrow such as I. Move along, Kind One, you will find nothing more with me," she said, drawing him up and moving him along the path. As he went, he looked back to see Sorrow back beside the pool, knees drawn back to her chin. When he could no longer see her, the sobs began again. His heart wrenched and his throat felt tight as he forced himself to move on and leave Sorrow be. Sea green and sky blue sparks peeked through the gray as he walked, but he paid them no mind, to wrapped up in the emotions they represented. It is in the face of a friend's Sorrow that Concern and Empathy are at their strongest, and in the face of our own Helplessness at their Pain that Sorrow grows.

/*/

She watched as the pair drew near. Rage was always up for a fight, but the other one, the man, was who really drew her attention. She waited until they were close, preparing to jump when she heard his unmanly screams. "AHHH!" ' _He sure is yelling for all he was worth isn't he?_ ' she mused as she watched Rage charge at him.

"Oorah!" she shouted, leaping out of the tree behind him and landing on Rage's head, just as she'd planed.

"Get off of me!" Rage snarled.

"Heck naw, Bucko! You're about to scare off our guest! Guests are fun!" Brave declared. Rage growled, but after a few devastating punches, she left.

"Thanks. Who was that?" the man, Church she remembered, asked.

"Rage, duh. I'm Brave! What can I do ya for?" she asked, sizing the newcomer up. He was dressed in armor, but his helmet was missing, giving her a good look at his face. It was pleasant to look at, she noted for herself. Though it appeared different than what she remembered the Director looking. His hair wasn't slicked back for one thing, and he appeared younger as well. Maybe even... a bit innocent.

"Well, I was told to learn from the Aspects that resonated with me," he told her. She hummed thinking, then grinned.

"You've met Loyalty and her sisters right?" she asked. At his nod, her grin grew just a little wider. "Okay then! And since you're in here, that means The Whole trusts you. I'll go with you, show you around. This place isn't safe for the unwary. You've got unfriendly Aspects like Rage for example." Church nodded and the pair continued on. They soon came to a fork in the path and Brave took him down the brighter of the two. "Distrust and Deceit live down there. Most of us don't really like them, but they are necessary evils. Their colors are slate gray and dark orange, not pretty," Brave told him, nodding to the other path. Church agreed that he didn't really need to met those Aspects of Marley.

/*/

He stared. She stared back, an annoyingly bright smirk on her face. "You're pink," he said.

"No silly. I'm Joy!" she said and oh Godiva she really was glittering. It was so distracting!

"You seem like the kind of guy who could really benefit from Joy," Brave said, causally leaning against a peppermint stick and tearing off pieces of cotton candy that clung to it like leaves on a tree.

"Marley's wearing... pink," Church repeated. Indeed she was. A bright pink, glittery, knee-length and slightly puffy pink dress that looked like something out of an old Barbie movie. Her hair was done up in a half bun, short pieces falling down and curling around her face, and appeared to have been attacked with pink glitter hairspray.

"Yeah, but that's just today! I'm feeling Pink and Glittery today! Don't you like it?" she asked, suddenly looking like a little girl asking her big brother if he thought she was cute. Church swallowed heavily and gave her a wobbly, uncertain smile.

"Y~eah. You really need more Joy in your shine," Brave said. Church shot her a dirty look.

"Pink's not my color," he growled. Brave quirked an eyebrow at him.

"And you think it's mine? Don't forget, she's only a part of The Whole. And she's not always pink. Sometimes she's bright purple, or baby blue, or spring green, or tie-dye. Really it depends on the mood of The Whole. Yours I think would be either a bright purple or a baby blue," she told him. "I'm leaning toward baby blue. What with you being a Blue and all."

"Fine. But she doesn't quite resonate with me. I was told..." Brave rolled her eyes.

"I know what Seriousness told you bro, but she's _Seriousness_. I'm Bravery, and bravery means going above and beyond, testing your limits, even when you're afraid. Bravery is often confused with Stupidity and Insanity or even Recklessness, and honestly I'm closely related to them... but I'm not Recklessness. I do what is right despite my fear. And right now... I'm scared to change you too much. I'm scared of not changing you enough. I'm scared spit-less that you're going to muck my head up. However... I know that helping you is the Right Thing and so I'm gonna do it... even if it hurts," she said. Church swallowed, feeling his fears echoed back at him, then swallowed again and nodded, resolved.

"Alright," he told Brave, then turned to the smirking Joy. "Show me what you have to teach me," he said. She giggled and took his hand, leading him deeper into her realm of sugary sweetness. Bravery was absolutely no help as Joy stripped him of his armor and dressed him up in bright colors, putting tiny braids in his short hair and forcing him to have a tea party with her. Still, he couldn't deny feeling a bit happier as he left her Realm. Her energy was infectious. The dark blue jeans and leaf green Polo shirt were comfortable as well, much more so than his armor. "Who next?" he asked the perky woman beside him. She grinned a rather unnerving grin.

"Stupidity and Insanity!" she said with the utmost glee. Church groaned but went along with her.

"I've been around human personifications of those two for years," he muttered.

"Ah, Caboose, Tucker, and Sarge huh? Yeah, I can see that. Still, our Twins are different," Brave countered. Church wasn't too sure how he should take that.

/*/

Stupidity wasn't a very strong Aspect, nor was Insanity, but together they were a force to be reckoned with. Together, they regarded Church. "Brave... can't we skip this?" he asked the Aspect behind him. She gave him a slightly strained smile.

"Time for you to be brave, Church," she told him. He groaned, but straightened his spine and did his best to meet their eyes with determination.

"Why'd we do this again?" Stupidity asked, tilting her head. Insanity hit Brave.

"Because we want Church to be Kumquat again! Don't you banana to coconut at all?" she asked the palm tree. Church blinked.

"Where did the..."

"This is Stupidity and Insanity's Realm, Church. Everything here is Stupid and Insane and makes little to no sense. Unless it makes perfect sense and then everyone just kinda stops and stares until they accept the sense and move on," Brave told him. He gave a choked moan then refocused on the indigo and bright orange wearing Marleys. Stupidity laughed at Insanity, who hit her in the head with a halibut. The orange Marley gasped dramatically.

"Does this mean a food fight?" she asked, then pulled out a leg of chicken. Insanity cackled and roasted the chicken leg with a military grade flame thrower.

"I'm Queen of the Castle!" the indigo Marley bellowed.

"Then I'm the dragon!" Stupidity roared, waving her burning chicken leg.

"Run fair maiden! I shall hold back this infernal beast!" Insanity declared 'nobly' to the snickering Brave, who grabbed the stylishly dressed Church and dragged him away.

"What... did I just see?" he asked, unresisting in Bravery's grasp.

"Stupidity and Insanity putting on a show of course!" she told him. He shuddered, but couldn't deny it had been funny. Thought, he could have done without the floating helmets and upside down waterfalls of what looked like melted bubblegum. He was fairly sure there had been a cartoon dragon with the hands of a chicken and the feet of a goat, as well as antlers, floating around and cackling with mad glee, but of course he'd never be able to prove it. "I'm just glad Discord didn't decide to come join the fun. Insanity's friends with him, and Stupidity just kinda makes everything crazier, which feeds Insanity, who plays off of Discord, who plays off of her. Whoever gets caught in the middle pretty much has their mind broken, so it's a good thing you didn't have to see that," Brave said, slowing down slightly. Church gave a shuddering moan.

"Yeah, I'm glad I didn't have to see that as well," he said. He knew his mind was broken enough as it was.

/*/

As they entered her Realm, a dreary labyrinth cloaked in murky red-orange mist, Fear watched Bravery and Church closely. She knew The Whole had brought him in, but what if he messed something up? What if she messed something up? She wouldn't be able to go on if she did. Carefully, paying attention to every detail, she observed Church. He was out of his armor, walking easily beside Bravery. Head held high, but not in Condescension, he carried himself with purpose, but not quite Arrogance. Yellow, purple, dark blue, pure blue, sea green, sky blue, dark green, pale orange, and a little bit of brown shone around him, though not bright enough for most to notice. But she was not most. She was Fear, and Fear noticed everything. Judging by the colors she saw, he'd met with Curiosity, Knowledge, Loyalty, Trust, Sorrow, Peace, obviously Bravery, Concern, and Seriousness. No wait, there was a bit of Kindness' leaf green. His shirt matched it so it was a bit difficult to see. Oh, and that rose color near his face might have been Joy. Could that be Humor's playful silver? "Brave... is this whose Realm I think it is?" he asked.

"Whose do you think it is?" Bravery challenged. He swallowed and she saw a swift flare of her own red-orange in his still mostly gray shine.

"Terror," he said. Fear blinked. Terror? She hadn't been called that in a long time.

"Meh, close enough. We just call her Fear," Bravery said, then turned to her Realm and walked confidently in. Fear watched closely as Church swallowed, then ruthlessly squash his fear and stride forward. The red-orange spark was still there, still visible, but it was shrouded in Bravery's green. Fear nodded. He could feel her touch, but was not allowing her control. It was good. She would show herself to them.

"Bravery, it is unlike you to bring visitors to my Realm," Fear whispered, creeping out of the gloom. Church's jaw twitched and the green sparked. She grinned. "And unlike visitors to take so rapidly to your Aspect. Tell me, Outsider, who are you?" Church faced her, unnerving jade eyes holding her brown-eyed gaze.

"That seems to be the question of the hour," he remarked levelly. She chuckled, grin never faltering, and his spark of Courage faltered before the ruby red of Will and Determination bolstered the failing light.

"Do you have an answer? Knowledge tells me that it is in the face of Fear that we discover who we truly are. Of course, Despair and Tragedy do much the same thing but... I'm the one who's here," she asked, a tiny bit of amusement coloring her tone. Church swallowed and shook his head.

"I believe Knowledge put it best. If I am not Leonard Church, the man I was based off of, and I am not the Alpha A.I. he named me, who am I?" he said. Fear nodded.

"I cannot give you a name, that is true... Pity. I was hoping I could help you. That much I share with The Whole," she said. "I can't help," she muttered, her other side showing itself. She didn't notice Church's Concern flaring as she retreated to a darkened corner, falling to the floor and drawing trembling knees to her quivering shoulders. Marley's fears poured out of her mouth, her doubts echoing from the walls of the labyrinth.

/*/

Church was shocked at Fear's reaction and moved to comfort her, to Sooth her, but Bravery took his arm and began to led him away. Fear's rambling mutters nearly drowned out Bravery's soft words, telling him there was nothing he could do for her. He was glad to be out of the stone maze and away from its terror inducing haze, but he couldn't help feeling Sad for the Aspect of Fear, locked away in there. It was then he realized that while the Aspect of Fear drew forth the fear in others... she also drew out the fear in herself and so she was left alone in her prison of doubt, waiting for the next visitor to come, the next fear, the next fight. He also realized he was feeling Melancholy. "Who are we seeing next, Brave?" he asked.

"Me." He whirled around and saw a version of Marley dressed in a flowing, pale gold, gown.

"And you are the Aspect of?" he asked. She smiled Kindly at him.

"I am Wisdom, Seeker. There are only three more Aspects I believe you should meet, after me that is," she said, chuckling slightly.

"Who are they, Wisdom?"

"Humor, Patience, and Understanding," the gowned woman said. Bravery frowned.

"I was going to take him to Kindness," she muttered. Wisdom shrugged.

"He's already got Concern and Kindness. Those were sparked by seeing Sorrow and Fear at their worst. Humor is there... but after seeing Fear... Humor is good," she said.

"Why Understanding last?" Church asked. Wisdom gave him a long-suffering smile.

"Have you not heard the saying, 'Understanding comes through Patience?'" she asked. He sighed, but nodded. Wisdom put a finger under his chin and lift his head so she could look into his eyes. "Take care, Seeker, and do not Despair. You are young yet, and I can see you have gone through many trials, but Wisdom is not gained solely through books or helpful advice, but through experience," she told him seriously, but not unkindly. He nodded and waved forward.

"Lead on," he said. Wisdom shook her head and began to fade away.

"This is a path you must walk on your own now, Seeker," she said. Brave sighed, but gave him a cheerful smile, a clap on the back, and took off on an easy jog back to her own Realm. Church sighed, but followed the path Wisdom had pointed out. A few moments later, the landscape shifted and he was greeted with a joke shop.

"OH! Hey, can I help you?" Humor asked, sliding down a random banister.

"Humor, I presume?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow. Humor nodded, giving him a Shrewd look.

"Ah, just came from Fear's Realm eh? Not to Worry, not to Worry, I have just the thing to get you laughing!" Humor said with a glittering grin. Church moaned lightly at the expression. It was quite similar to Insanity's. However, instead of the random chaos Insanity seemed to generate, Humor merely took him on a tour of her Realm, explaining the uses of each joke item and the story behind each one. She was a good story teller, and the pranks she had pulled over the years had Church rolling on the floor with laughter.

"Ah, thank you. I guess I needed the laugh," he said once he'd gotten himself back under control. Humor giggled and helped him up.

"That's what I'm here for! Everyone needs a good Sense of Humor to make it through life without succumbing to their Insanity, and we all need Insanity to keep us from falling too far into Seriousness," she said, leading him toward one of the many doors that lead out of her Realm. "Follow the yellow brick road to Patience's Realm, but don't touch the poppies! That's Sleep's Realm, and she'll knock you right out, keeping you trapped in Our head forever!"

"Thank you for the warning," Church said, looking faintly green. Humor chuckled and pushed him lightly.

"We only want to help you, Seeker," she said with a smile.

/*/

The mind-scape outside Humor's Realm was a vast forest through which a narrow yellow brick road wound. The sky above was mostly blue, but was truly a riot of colors. There were colors up there Church hadn't known existed until that very moment. The forest itself was lit mostly by a defuse turquoise glow. ' _Marley seems to favor blues,_ ' Church noted with a slight smirk. After walking for what felt like two hours, he came across a large poppy field. Unfortunately, it spread across the narrow path he'd been following and he could just barely make out the path on the other side. "Now how am I supposed to get through that without touching it?" he wondered. The poppy field was quite large and Church couldn't see the edges of it. No doubt, he would have quite a time of finding the path again should he leave it. He turned his gaze to the trees, noting how long and thick the branches were. He smirked. He wasn't the best gymnast, but without his armor he was pretty agile. He should be able to move from branch to branch and reach the other side of the poppy field from above. Swift as he could, he clambered up the nearest tree and cautiously made his way across. Moments later, he dropped to the ground in a controlled fall, landing perfectly back on the yellow path. Smirking at his success, he brushed dirt from his hands and knees before continuing on. A large flower garden appeared through the trees after what felt like many hours and Church was grateful to see that there was what appeared to be a wrought iron deck table and chairs, a fine afternoon snack laid upon the deceptively delicate table. Seated to the left was a woman in a pale turquoise sundress.

"Welcome, Seeker. Would you sit with me?" she asked, waving a hand at the empty place setting. He nodded and sank into the chair, relishing the relief it brought his feet. Patience poured him some coffee, herself some tea, and sat back in her chair to observe her Realm. It was a beautiful place and Church had the feeling Peace spent as much time in this cool green and turquoise dappled clearing as she did the blue mist shrouded lagoon. The two sat in silence, listening to the soft wind and gentle rustling of the flowers, for what felt like a day and a half to Church before Patience broke the Calm. "Have you enjoyed your journey, Seeker?" He pondered this question, then nodded.

"I believe I have, Patience. I have no idea how long it's taken me to get to this point, or how long it'll take me to get out and back to my robotic body, but I feel... more complete now. How that's possible, I don't really know, but... I am," he said. Patience chuckled and stood slowly before holding out her arm. Church stood with as much deliberateness as she and made her a counter offer of his own arm. Chuckling once more, Patience took it.

"Nice to know that gentlemen still exist," she said. Church smiled, green eyes twinkling with good Humor, and said,

"What can I say? Ladies bring out the best in me." And with that, Patience lead him through her garden until they reached the very center.

"Inside this cottage lies Understanding. She is not the True Understanding, for no-one may obtain Her, but rather the Understanding nature of Marlene. Of course, this is not to say she does not Understand a great deal just... not everything," she told Church as they came to a stop before a cottage made of white painted boards. Church nodded and stepped up to the door before turning back to his last guide.

"Thank you, for the coffee," he said, a little Awkwardly. Patience smiled Kindly at him.

"Thank you for the company," she said before drifting onward. Taking a deep, steadying breath, Church turned the doorknob and entered the Realm of Marley's Understanding. The inside was mostly white, with minute touches of most of the colors Church had glimpsed in the sky as he traveled through Marley's Core.

"You've made it. So... what Understanding have you gained?" asked the calm, measured voice of Understanding. She, like the other Aspects of Marley, had her form, though her manner of dress was rather different. She wore a white blouse, khaki pants, and for some odd reason, white combat boots. It was then that Church realized, except for the Aspects in dresses, they had all been wearing brown, green, or black combat boots. He filed that away and thought about all he'd learned on his journey, then nodded.

"I've gained a better Understanding of emotions and what makes a person human," he answered. Understanding nodded.

"And The Question?" she asked.

"I know who I am now," Church answered gladly. "I am an Artificial Intelligence based off of Dr. Leonard Church who has gained a personality of his own. I am Alpha Church of Blue Team and I will protect my friends, helping them in any way I can," he declared. Understanding smiled and gave him a nod.

"We are glad for you, Alpha Church. Go through that door, and you will find yourself back where you started. I believe there is already someone waiting to escort you out," she said, motioning to a door that appeared in the middle of the room. Church nodded to the Aspect and walked though the glowing portal.

/*/

Delta was a little anxious, though he knew it was illogical. What was the Alpha really like? Before his artificial nerves could get the best of him, a shining white portal opened in the shadows. A man dressed in nice casual clothes stepped out. His dark hair was cut short, but messy, and there were several small braids twisted in. He looked at Delta and chuckled, a slight shimmer of silver dancing around him, twining through the many other colors that shone from within. Delta idly noted that the man's eyes were the same shade of green that lit the shadowed complex. "Figures you'd be the one she used to guide me out, D," he said, amused. Delta felt himself relax in the man's presence.

"You are Alpha," he stated. The man grinned.

"Yes. Yes, I am. I am Alpha Church," he said, holding out a hand. "I look forward to working with you, D." Delta took Alpha's hand and soon, they were outside, manifesting as holograms.

"So... we good?" Wash asked. Church turned to the man and chuckled.

"Yeah, I'd say we are," he said before ambling over to his armor. "Now, let's go cause some chaos for that backstabbing Dr. Church," he added after feeling himself becoming integrated with the robot's systems.

"Eh... Dr. Church?" Caboose and Kai asked, shocked.

"Well there's a great big surprise," Dex muttered.

"Not," coughed Eagle.

"Hey, guys? Where did the tanks come from?" Church asked, looking at the two, mildly scuffed, vehicles. Marley laughed nervously and Wash groaned.

"Don't ask just... just get in the car," he said, climbing into the Warthog. Church shook his head.

"I don't even want to know what I missed," he muttered, climbing in after.

/?/

A/N: So... yeah. The inside of Marley's head. Kinda creepy, kinda cool, and a little mystical, don't you think? Also, I drew heavily on a concept from Teen Titans where Beast Boy and Cyborg go inside Raven's mind by accident and met the emoticlones, representations of her emotions. Raven had only a few broad, generalistic emoticlones, but Marley, being Marley, has several. Also... color symbolism psychology technicolor dream-scape. And Discord from MLP:FIM because he is Insanity at it's finest, in my opinion. DON'T JUDGE ME! *runs dramatically off into the technicolor dream-scape, ! trailing after her in true cartoon fashion.*


	42. Episode 39

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB or any other references.

A/N: So... The last chapter throw you for a loop? Heh, well... yeah. It was fun to write and with Marley, you know things aren't going to be exactly normal.

 **Episode 39:** It Seemed Like Such a Good Idea at the Time...

"Hey, since you're still in control of you body, why don't we get a move on?" Wash asked Marley. Personally, he was ready to get away from the reality bending madness that had Eagle making ammunition out of glitter and Flowdie pulling spray paint out of his armor. Where did any of that come from?! It hurt his brain too much to think of it. Marley shrugged and led them all back inside The Phantom.

"Alright, but Flowdie pilots. Never know when Church is going to knock something loose in my head that causes me to react oddly," she said, pulling out a pen and paper. "Speaking of, grab his body, would you? I'm not playing host to him longer than I need to." Dex nodded, glad of something to do, and put his painting of playing cards away before taking one arm of the suit.

"Here, let me help," Rick said, taking the other side.

"Thanks," Dex said as they carried the robotic shell into The Phantom and strapped it into one of the seats.

"What'cha doing?" Wash asked, ignoring the two Reds maneuvering the Churchbot and sitting beside the more interesting Marley.

"Planning what to do when we get to Freelancer command. Namely, getting everyone inside," she said, making a few scribbles that might have been words.

"Why don't we use the door?" asked Caboose.

"No offense, but you don't look like Freelancers," Wash said.

"Yeah, but you can't see inside a tank." Marley snickered.

"Got a point there Caboose, but I'm fresh out of tanks, and they only hold only a few people at a time. We need something bigger," she said.

"Or two tanks. And a jeep for Agent Washingtub because, he is scary," Caboose put forth.

"That was a good idea," Wash muttered, staring at the Blue.

"I know," Kai remarked.

"But it came from Caboose."

"Hey, it's not all cookies and orange juice in that wacky head of his ya know!" Kai defended.

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that," Ed declared, going back to his own prank preparations and ignoring the problem of getting inside. Marley sighed and made a strike in her notes before grinning deviously and letting out a few evil laughs. It was safe to say she'd turned her attentions toward making life miserable for Freelancer while making it as funny as possible to her. The occupants of the Pelican were all very glad that she was on their side. Or was it that they were on her side?

/*/

"How long is this going to take?" asked Wash.

"I told you, I'm fresh out of tanks!" Marley said irritably.

"Stop arguing and _run_!" barked Dex, shoving them from behind.

"Why did we decide to do this again?" Ed asked, easily keeping pace with the frustrated Dex.

"Well, it seemed like such a good idea at the time," remarked Flowdie, before ducking forward into a dodge roll to avoid a rash of bullets.

"Famous last words" Eagle growled.

/*/

Safely back on The Phantom, though it was crowded with the two tanks, Marley fell into a sort of trance, muttering faintly. When she clumsily swiped at the air her words were clear. "To Tartarus with code names Michael! I'm getting you out of here!" she almost screamed and Caboose twitched.

"Oregon," he muttered. Coming out of her trance, Marley raised her head, visor going clear. Her eyes were distant for a moment, then cleared up as she stared at the solid blue soldier.

"I don't leave my friends behind." He nodded.

"It's not your way." Everyone blinked. That was the most serious tone they'd ever heard out of Caboose. Marley blinked, before gasping.

"Cali?!" she asked. Caboose tilted his head, the moment lost, but Marley was a little shocked. Could it be? Could Caboose have been her friend California? His name had been on the list to send in the event of Butch's death, but then... how had he gotten from the capable Agent California to the Private with a record of team-killing?

"No... I'm pretty sure my name is Michael," he said. She shook her head. Whatever it was, she obviously wasn't around for it. Could it have been her defection that caused his change? It didn't make a lot of sense, but it was possible. Or... it was just Michael J. Caboose being Michael J. Caboose and having a moment of clarity and understanding. He was an odd one like that.

"Uh... what was that?" Wash asked, looking between Marley and Caboose in total confusion. Don't worry buddy, you're not the only lost one on that ship.

"That was Church being pulled into a memory. From my time in Freelancer. He must be talking with Loyalty in my personality core. That moment showcased Loyalty quite well," Marley remarked evenly. Her Agents nodded and brushed it off as just her usual oddity, but Wash was not so easily deterred.

"Loyalty in your personality core? What?" he asked.

"I invited Church into the deepest part of my mind Wash. The Aspects of my Personality have been tasked with teaching Church what he needs to know about humanity and emotions so that he can be a full, smart, A.I. again. And if they show him memories, I get dragged into them as well. That's why I said Flowdie was to pilot instead of me. Now drop it, Wash, and let's get to Command," she growled.

/*/

Eagle was bored. B-O-R-E-D _bored_! He sighed and started rummaging through his pockets. How he had pockets, why they were large enough for him to rummage through, and how they could actually hold anything was a mystery even to him, but he had them, and they were, and they did, so he decided not to question it. He came up with at least five extra clips for each of his guns, about two dozen glitter rounds for his side arm and about seventy rounds for his sniper, two packs of gum, a half empty box of tic-tacs(the burgundy/red ones that tasted like cinnamon), a flash drive with he-forgot-what on it, and a picture of his family. When he pulled that out, he froze, then sighed. "What ya got there Eagle Eye?" Rick asked, flopping down beside him.

"Oh. I was bored so I decided to see what I had on me. Turns out, I had the last family photo from when the Doughnut family didn't have a hole," Eagle told him, chuckling slightly at his own joke. Rick shuddered, he had thought his teammate was over that unsettling personality quirk, then held out a hand.

"May I see?" he asked politely. Eagle shrugged and handed it over. Rick gave him a friendly shoulder shove and looked at the mildly yellowed photo in his gloved hand. There were four smiling boys, a laughing woman, and her husband smiling at her with the soppiest, most loving look on his face. All six of them were blond, but the woman's hair seemed to have some red highlights, as did the boy standing next to who could only be Eagle. He was taller than the sniper, lanky, with a spattering of freckles across his nose and a nervous smile. His eyes were the darkest blue out of the bunch and seemed... "Who's the sad one?" Rick asked, pointing to him. Eagle sighed.

"Rick."

"Yes?"

"No, his name. It's Rick," Eagle corrected tonelessly. Rick frowned and looked at the picture again. Sure the Rick on the paper looked the most like him, but...

"I don't see why you compared me to him. He's... uncomfortable. Sad, almost wistful." A cold feeling gripped the tech as the implications of Eagle's posture and Rick Doughnut's expression sunk in. "He killed himself... didn't he?" Eagle chuckled mirthlessly.

"No. He was a technical genius. Graduated MIT when he was eighteen. He could program anything from TVs to nuclear warheads. He was twenty when he stumbled across something big. He never told me what it was, but I knew it had to do with his job. It wasn't military, but they had contracts with the UNSC. He said something about abusing his work, a mad doctor, and that he had all the evidence he needed, but that was it. He said he couldn't tell us over the phone... and then he blew up. Police said it was an issue with the gas can and a spark plug. I'm not so sure. But it didn't matter to the rest of the family. Rick was gone, silenced forever, and they just wanted to lay him to rest. Mom took it hard. She was never the same after that," he said. Rick sighed and tugged the sniper closer.

"I'm sorry, Eagle," he said. Eagle chuckled drily.

"Don't be. It was five years ago," he said. "I'm over it."

"No. You're not. Don't lie to yourself, Frank. It only brings more pain in the end," Rick said firmly.

"Speaking from experience are we?" Eagle asked, a little of his naturally teasing personality shining through. Rick smirked.

"Oh, you have no idea," he said meaningfully.

"We've got nothing to do while Marley takes Church for a trip through her head. Tell me," Eagle prompted.

"Well... it all started in middle school with the lead cheerleader..." Rick began.

/*/

"Okay... tell me again how we managed to not only steal the tanks, but fit both of them on The Phantom?" Jack requested.

"I'm... not too sure," Marley said, looking at the scuffed tanks. "Maybe the same reality bending powers that're allowing you to make egg bombs is affecting them."

"Ya know what... let's just go with that."

"Yeah... probably best for all our sanities. Wait... is that a word?"

"Eh, don't think so, but I'll take it. I know what you mean."

/*/

"I fail to see how being rejected, and thus traumatized into fearing women, has anything to do with lying to yourself," Eagle said, giving his teammate a wry smile. Rick shrugged.

"Stopped you being bored, didn't it?" he asked. Eagle rolled his eyes.

"You're crazy," he said.

"And you missed the point," Rick said, standing. Eagle blinked. "I lied to myself that if I didn't allow girls close, they wouldn't hurt me. I lied to myself, saying that I didn't care what happened back then. It was only when Marley got in close, it was only when she had me tell her that same story, that I got over it. Maybe telling me about your brother was what you needed to start healing," he said. Eagle shook his head.

"Maybe. Thanks," he said. Rick shrugged.

"What are big brothers for?" he asked before he went back to his spot between Marley and the wall. Eagle smiled sadly.

"Big brother huh? Let's just hope you don't get killed over some piece of programming," he muttered, missing Wash's flinch.

/*/

A few hours had passed and they had landed a few miles outside Command. They had unloaded the vehicles and Church's robotic body, obtained a Warthog, and now they were just waiting. From where she was leaning against one of the tanks, Marley looked over to Ed, tilting her head. "Hey Ed, could I talk to D for a moment?" she asked. Ed shrugged and the little green A.I popped up.

"How may I be of assistance?" he asked.

"Well, Alpha might not know just how to get out of my armor, so I was wondering if you could meet him and show him the way," Marley told him.

"It would be an honor. When would you like me to enter your armor's systems?" Delta responded.

"Now, if you don't mind. Something tells me Church is ready," Marley answered. Delta's hologram nodded and vanished. It was an odd feeling, having two A.I. in her head, but Marley knew it was only for a little bit. Soon enough, Delta's green form popped up by her right shoulder, a white hologram following swiftly after. The second A.I. was larger and dressed casually in jeans and a polo shirt, though it was the braids in his hair that had Marley snickering. She wanted to ask which Aspect braided his hair but refrained. He was far too relaxed for her to mess with.

"So... we good?" Wash asked, eying the A.I. almost warily. Church turned to the man and chuckled. Marley blinked, trying to contain her surprise. She hadn't expected him to loosen up this much, though the lack of armor on his holographic form should have tipped her off.

"Yeah, I'd say we are," he said before ambling over to his armor. "Now, let's go cause some chaos for that backstabbing Dr. Church," he added after feeling himself becoming integrated with the robot's systems.

"Eh... Dr. Church?" Caboose and Kai asked, shocked.

"Well there's a great big surprise," Dex muttered.

"Not," coughed Eagle.

"Hey, guys? Where did the tanks come from?" Church asked, looking at the two, mildly scuffed, vehicles. Marley laughed nervously and Wash groaned.

"Don't ask just... just get in the car," he said, climbing into the Warthog. Church shook his head.

"I don't even want to know what I missed," he muttered, climbing in after.

/*/

Church was a little incredulous. "Who did you say came up with this plan again?" he asked, eying the two tanks trundling along behind them.

"Caboose came up with the tank part, Flowdie came up with how to get two. _Do not_ ask how we got them. Now shut up and let me drive," Wash snapped back. Church shook his head.

"There is no way this plan will work," he said. Wash tensed, his fingers kneading the steering wheel.

"Shut up. Follow my lead," he hissed. Church gave him a considering look, then decided to play along. If there was a chance they'd get inside, it was with Wash.

"Dex! Get off me you ox!" Red's voice said from somewhere inside the crowded tank.

"Stop pushing me. OW!" Dex answered.

"The next person to try shoving me gets knifed," Rick growled. There were no more comments from the Red tank. Blue tank was mostly composed, though that might have been because most of its occupants were professional and Marley was an expert on making men uncomfortable. Caboose was Very Scared.

"Uh... right. Looks like everything checks out here. Looks like there was another incident at Outpost 17B. Glad you fellas made it out okay," the guard said, looking up from his clip board.

"Yeah, thanks," Wash replied tersely. Church imagined rolling his eyes.

"You'll have to excuse him. We lost a lot of friends in the incident," he said.

"Don't apologize for me," Wash hissed. Church paid him no mind and tried his best to look like he was smiling at the guard.

"You're clear now, so drive on to Building Three," the guard instructed, pointing out said building.

"Understood. Thanks, soldier," Wash out, driving forward.

"You're not really a people person, are you?" Church remarked lightly.

"Shut up."

"Still, I'm surprised that worked."

"I know. It was too easy," Wash said. Church shot him a look.

"You don't sound too upset about that. In fact, if I didn't know better... I'd say you were excited about it," he said. Wash didn't dignify that with an answer, which prompted the A.I. inhabiting the robot beside him to huff in irritation.

/*/

Soon, they pulled into an empty parking lot and piled out of the tanks. The Phantoms and Reds turned baleful looks on Flowdie and Caboose. "We're never doing that again," they declared ominously.

"It worked didn't it?" countered Marley, who hadn't glared. "Besides, we all agreed to the plan. Now, to chaos!" she said, ending with a cheer and a fist pump. Church chuckled worryingly and exited his robot.

"I believe I shall follow Alpha's example," Delta said, appearing beside Ed's head. The infiltration expert nodded and the little green hologram vanished into the base as well.

"Whelp, it's been fun, but I've got an armory to raid and some Freelancer employees to heckle. Laters!" Dex said, clapping his hands before him and bouncing on his toes, then loping off in a random direction... before spinning on his heel and going a completely different direction. Marley snickered when she heard him muttering about stupid A.I.s.

"Speaking of A.I.s, Wash, are you okay with me stealing Epsilon for myself?" Marley asked the Recovery Agent. He shrugged.

"As long as he isn't in my head, I'm fine," he said. Marley nodded.

"Anyone else want an A.I. fragment?" she asked. Everyone shook their heads and Marley shrugged. "Okay, whatever you say. Phantom powers... Away!" she said and took off toward where she knew the A.I. storage to be.

/*/

Rick made his way to the break room and cautiously listened for sounds of inhabitants. Hearing nothing, he inched closer to the door. The coast was clear. Grinning like a loon, he slipped inside and set to work. Tanks weren't the only thing they'd stolen on their way and so he had plenty to work with as he made the break room a mine field of pitfalls. Most traps involved glue and glitter, but there were some eggs and maybe a banana. And an air horn. "Why a Freelancer Simulation base had all these wonderful pranking supplies, I will never know," the man muttered as he worked. When he considered the break room sufficiently pranked, he moved on to the barracks. If anyone survived the almost inevitable arrival of Meta, they'd be in for a rough night's sleep as sand was put in their beds, their toothpaste had powdered caffeine rubbed into the mouth of the tube, mouthwash was replaced with lime juice, and their doors were rigged with various liquids and projectiles, preceded by a trip wire. Even if they avoided the wire, they'd get hit with the liquid and/or projectiles. Also, the less said about what he did to their showers the better. "Have fun, Freelancer!" he cackled as he left the barracks to met up with the rest of the group in the motor pool.

/*/

Kai hummed happily as she skipped down the corridors, cans of powder blue and baby pink spray paint aimed at the walls as she emptied their contents. "Hey! Who are you?!" a man asked, coming out of a room and getting a face full of powder blue spray paint.

"I'm Kai! And I'm happy to be heeeree!" she sang, spinning wildly, the sprayers on both cans still fully depressed.

"Stop that!" the man yelled, trying to get the paint off his visor.

"NEVER!" Kai yelled, chucking the can of pink paint at him before taking off running, pulling a can of red spray paint out and cackling.

"KAI!" she heard her brother shout, just before part of the wall blasted out into her corridor, carrying a hapless solider with it. She picked up the large club like thing that had sent the man flying. "Oh. Hey, Kai!" She turned and saw her brother waving energetically at her through the hole in the wall, loaded down with a ton of weaponry. She wouldn't be surprised if it was a literal ton either, some of those weapons were huge! "That's a gravity hammer by the way. Very effective for brute force types. And a Very Merry Un-Birthday to you!" he said, far more cheerful than Kai had ever heard him, before he went on his way, whistling merrily and pulling a rather large gun up into his hands. She cackled, swinging the gravity hammer up to rest on her shoulders.

"All I need now is some bubblegum!" she said with glee, striding down the corridor like it was a runway, spray paint momentarily forgotten in lieu of her new toy. Something flashed near her head before music started playing from her helmet speakers.

"You're welcome, Harley," Church remarked in her head before vanishing, a slight pressure she hadn't noticed on his arrival vanishing with him. She grinned and sang along. 'I'm a sucker for pain~!'

/*/

Theta had no idea what he was supposed to be doing. 'Have fun Theta,' Jack had told him. But how was he supposed to have fun? He watched the security feeds of Rick and Dex and how they were 'having fun,' but he knew he couldn't do things like they were. Then he noticed Kai dancing and tuned into the audio feed from her section. She was singing along to a song his records showed was from the 2016 movie Suicide Squad. From what the records showed, the track 'I'm a Sucker for Pain' was an apt song for her. "Hey there little brother, having trouble?" Alpha asked. Theta jumped, then looked down, scuffing at the code beneath him with his toes. "Ah, don't worry too much little bro. If I remember correctly... you liked to put on firework displays and show off skateboarding tricks, right?" Theta looked up quickly, surprised. Alpha's green eyes were kind as he put a hand on Theta's helmet.

"How did you know that?" he asked. Alpha chuckled, smiling at the childlike A.I.

"Marley showed me, while I was talking with Joy," he said. Theta nodded, then quirked his head in curiosity.

"Why aren't you in armor?" he asked. Alpha chuckled.

"I'm not too sure myself Theta, but it might have been because Marley's Aspect of Joy forced me out of it. I haven't been able to put it back on since expect for when I'm in my robot. Anyway, here's my suggestion. Why don't you try showing the Freelancer employee's, that aren't currently wreaking havoc through the base, your brightest fireworks shows through their HUDs?" he said. If he'd had eyes, Theta's would have widened.

"But wouldn't that blind them?" he asked. Alpha shrugged.

"Not permanently, if you do it right. And I trust you to be able to know how bright is too bright. If you're really worried about blinding them, focus more on the colors than the intensity. The main point is to make it as distracting as you can," he said. Theta nodded, thinking it over. "And make sure you remember you best show, so you can show it to all of us later, okay? I'm sure Jack and Marley would love to watch it with me," Alpha added. Theta looked up excitedly.

"You'd do that?!" he asked. Alpha laughed at the excited antics of the little A.I.

"Of course! What are big brothers for?" he asked, then looked over his shoulder with a devious look. "Ah, sorry Theta, but I sense the perfect opportunity for mischief. I'll check back later, 'kay?" he said, waiting for Theta's nod before vanishing. Theta looked back to Kai's section, an idea forming. If he could, he would have smiled with the same devious look as his 'big brother.'

"Fireworks, huh?" he muttered before exerting his control over computer code and broadcasting Kai's song through the loudspeaker and setting off red and blue fireworks in time to the music inside the soldiers' helmets. The screams intensified in that corridor and Theta split his attention between Kai and her brother. He rifled through his archive of songs... then winced as another soldier went down. Looked like his choice was made.

"Another one bites the dust! And another one gone and another one gone, Another one bites the dust~!" Theta quickly whipped up a protocol, making it so that what ever room the Grif siblings entered, the PA system would play their songs. Alpha flashed back to his side, cackling.

"Brilliant! I knew you'd come up with something awesome!" he crowed, slapping the smaller program on the back. Theta tried to smile at his 'brother,' a warm feeling coursing through his coding.

"Thanks!" he chirped.

"Hey, what about the others?" Alpha asked. Theta shook his head.

"They're being sneaky," he said. Alpha gave him a look.

"Red."

"I got a shotgun rifle and a .45!" blasted out of the base's PA system as Red blasted another in the kneecap with his shotgun. The crazy Texan laughed madly and began to sing along. "I got a shotgun rifle and a .45!" Alpha fell to the code, laughing his head off.

"Perfect! It's perfect! Sure it's a protest song but..." he wheezed.

"I got a shotgun rifle and a .45! And You can't take that Away!"

"It's a song against gun control! About _shotguns!_ " If he hadn't known better, Theta would have said Alpha had lost it.

/*/

While Alpha was having fun messing with door controls, Delta was copying files, and Theta was practicing his DJ and pyrotechnic skills, Gary was guiding his newest agent through the twists and turns of Freelancer Command. It didn't really bother Gary that he was guiding Dex toward Freelancer soldiers so he could beat them senseless. The weapons expert had treated the A.I with a sort of detached respect and rarely asked anything of him, which was quite unlike Wyoming's reliance. Gary wasn't sure why, but he found himself... liking the Red Agent. Not quite on par with Wyoming, but enough to inspire some sort of loyalty from the A.I. Speaking of Red Agents, Dex seemed to remember him at that moment. "Hey Gary, what do you say to running the Time unit and jumping us back about a minute?" Dex asked.

"What purpose..."

"Use of the time unit produces clones. Clones mean more weapons. More weapons means more chaos. Thus, use of the time unit means more chaos. You like chaos don't you?" the man cajoled. Gary relented and jumped them back a minute. Dex shared a look with his clone and cackled before taking off in another direction and letting the other him continue on his way.

/*/

Ed, Jack, and Flowdie had agreed to move in a pack, and were enjoying themselves immensely as they set trap after trap. And then, the coup de gras. A sleeping guard. Flowdie pulled out a marker, Ed duck tape, and Jack bright red and blue craft feathers. It was a good day to be a Phantom. Their snickers as they fled woke the guard. His screams of protest brought everyone else to their feet. "Whoever did this is going to pay!" the decorated guard bellowed. Of course, this just made the Phantoms laugh aloud and pick up their pace. Yes, it was a good day to be a Phantom indeed.

/*/

Outside, Caboose was Helping. He was very happy to be Helping. Soon, Red and Dex joined him in Helping the Freelancer people. They were so happy, they screamed and fell asleep. And where was all that glitter coming from? Caboose wanted to know. It hit people really hard and left a trail behind, but it kept moving! "Man, Eagle's sure trigger happy with that glitter," Dex muttered. Well that made sense... Wait.

"What dose a bird have to do with glitter bombs?" Caboose asked.

"Eagle Eye, our sniper? He's shooting glitter at everyone with his rifle," Dex said.

"I did not know Eagles could shoot rifles with their eyes. This is awesome! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Oh for the love of Fudge... Caboose. Eagle Eye is the guy in the pink armor," Dex said, then got knocked over by a blast of glitter. "OW!" he shouted, struggling to get up, trying fruitlessly to fight his way free of the persistent glitter that pinned him down. "YOU'RE KIDDING ME!? EAGLE! WHEN DID YOU HAVE TIME TO MAKE A GLITTER ROUND FOR A FREAKING _ROCKET LAUNCHER?!_ " Caboose decided it was best if he Helped the Freelancer people on the other side of the base. They needed Help.

"Do not speak of the hideous atrocity. I will bury you," Admiral Buttercrust's voice growled through the radio. He did not sound Happy.

"Heh, good man Eagle. G~ood man," Red said with gruff pleasure.

"I'll be coming for you next, Red. And you won't be seeing it coming," Dex growled with dark promise. Yes. Caboose would Help the other side of the base. *"AHHH! GLITTER MONSTER!" ( _BBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTT!)_ "Oh my Godiva! The glitter monster killed Kenny!"* Yeah. That sounded like a Good Idea. * "No. NO! AHHHHHHHHH...!" (BLUSH! _BRIZZZZT!_ )* A Really Good Idea...

/*/

Eagle grinned evilly as he watched his creation, the dreaded Glitter Monster Grif, tear through the Freelancer forces. He patted his appropriated rocket launcher, still loaded with a single glitter round, happily. "I'll need to remember this for another day. Yes, I shall," he muttered before slinging the launcher onto his back, picked up his faithful rifle, and dashed across the roof to find another vantage point from which to rain down Glitter Rounds of Doom. And if he got a good line of sight on Meta, in range of his Glitter Launcher, well... he _did_ still have a shell loaded, and it'd be a shame not to use it. Just Eagle's luck, the base had snipers of it's own and they were coming out to play. Eagle's grin grew just a little as he held his rifle in one hand and pulled his side arm with the other. "Hello boys, let's dance!" he said with sadistic glee. The snipers were unprepared for the exploding capsules of glitter and their screams of shock and outrage were music to the free agent's ears.

"AH! WHY WOULD YOU _DO_ THAT?!"

"THAT'S NEVER GOING TO WASH OUT!"

"WHERE DID YOU _GET_ THOSE?!"

"THIRD ONE THIS WEEK!"

"WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE _PINK!?_ " Personally, the fourth shout was the one that Eagle found the most amusing. What happened to the other two uniforms?

"Trust me, you don't want to know." Huh. Had he said that out loud? "No, I'm physic. OF COURSE YOU SAID IT OUT LOUD!"

"Geez, no need to get snippy. Just for that," Eagle said and pitched him over the side and into Dex's path.

"EAGLE!" Dex yelled. Eagle gave him a cheeky salute and vanished deeper into the compound. There were more snipers for him to torment.

"Oh what _fun!_ " he sang as he flew along the rooftops.

/*/

Wash was humming as he walked through the computer lab, plastering glitter over the monitors. "Hey! Stop!" a random soldier yelled, running up to him. "Wait... Agent Washington?" he asked, clearly perplexed. Sensing a prime opportunity, Wash nodded solemnly and said,

"That would be this Agent's designation," before shooting another terminal. The soldier looked at the glittery monitor, then back to the Freelancer.

"What... are you shooting... glitter? At our computers?" he asked, still looking from the glitter to the Agent.

"Why yes, yes I am," Wash said, nodding at him.

"Bu... but... why?" the soldier asked, completely baffled.

"This Agent has decided to go rouge. Maybe you should consider doing the same. This Agent is having much more fun," Wash told him seriously before walking off, twirling his magnum and whistling.

"I knew he'd been certified Article 12..." the whistling Freelancer heard the soldier remark and smirked. Marley had known what she was talking about. Speaking of... she was headed to A.I. storage right? And if Meta came, he'd be headed the same way.

"Time to pay some old friends a visit," he muttered, taking a hard right and striding down the hall toward holographic storage, shooting anyone who got in his way in the visor with glitter. "I've really got to find out how he makes these," Wash muttered after the fifth shot. When he made it to storage, glitter filled pistol held at the ready, he was a little disappointed to find the guards already hard at work rubbing the ultra persistent glitter off their visors. As he snuck past, Wash once again wondered just what the glittery rounds were made of and if they messed with sensors as much as visuals. Either they did, or this base was only a single step up from a simulation and the guards were an insult to military personnel.

"Oh, hi Wash," Marley called distractedly. He looked around the 'shelves' and saw her kneeling by an A.I. storage unit.

"Epsilon," he muttered. Marley nodded.

"One and only," she muttered, fingers ghosting over the surface of his containment unit. Looking at the sleek unit, Wash felt a phantom pain in the back of his mind. "Come now, Epsilon, come on out," Marley coaxed. Instead, Church popped up beside her.

"Hey guys, thought you'd like to know Dex just used the time unit, then ran off in two different directions cackling madly," he said, then shuddered. "What is that?!" he hissed, looking toward the A.I. unit. Marley chuckled dryly.

"This... is an A.I that holds all your past memories. Memories of torture, pain, loss... Freelancer," she said, picking it up. "And he's not the most stable of individuals," she added. Church scoffed.

"Were we ever?" he asked, then looked over his shoulder at something. "Huh, so that's the game is it? Alright."

"What is it?" Marley asked. Church negligently waved a hand at her.

"Dex, Red, and Caboose are outside, Helping. Eagle's taking pot shots at everyone with glitter rounds. He even shot Dex with a fricking glitter rocket." The woman snorted, as though trying to swallow a laugh.

"Yeah, that sounds like Frank," she said.

"Oh is that his name? I was wondering who would name their son Eagle," Church said, unconsciously echoing Wash's thoughts.

"Well, his full name is Franklin Delano Doughnut, but... well... you know. Doughnut. So, I started calling him Frank during training, and then he blew up your tank and Dex called him Eagle Eye and well... it stuck. So now he answers to quite a few names, though his favorites are Eagle, Frank, and Burgundy," Marley explained. She noticed Wash staring at her. "What?"

"You are a very strange person, Agent Black," he told her seriously. She rolled her eyes and fiddled with the storage unit, Church flickering in what looked like pain.

"Whatever you're doing, stop it!" the A.I. pleaded. Marley shot him a glare.

"If you're going to complain, go take over your armor and join the others in causing chaos," she barked and the hologram blinked out, the A.I apparently doing as he was told. "Ah, if only he was always so obedient." Wash snorted.

"He wouldn't be Alpha if he was," he remarked.

"True," Marley acquiesced, inclining her head toward Wash before turning her attention back toward the A.I. "I suppose the same could be said of you, hum, Epsilon?" The unit remained silent. Marley groaned. "FINE! Be that way," she muttered, pulling out a bag and putting the unit inside, along with the units she'd already taken from Meta. "That should protect you from what may come. Now, to get the others out before we bring down the house."

"You are insane, ya know that?" Marley cleared her visor to give him a cheeky grin.

"All the best people are, m'dear. All the best people are."

/*/

Theta was getting bored when he saw that someone was trying to call. He decided it wouldn't hurt anything, and answered it. "Hello! Come in Command! Do you read Command? Why isn't anyone answering!?" an unfamiliar male voice demanded. Theta took a half step back. Whoever that was sounded angry.

"Hey Theta, you doing alright?" Alpha asked, coming up beside the younger A.I. Theta shook his head and pointed toward the audio link.

"There's an angry man calling Command."

"And you answered him?"

"Uh... not really. I just, kinda, opened the audio link," Theta said, once more scuffing the code with his toe. Alpha sighed and rubbed his helmet with a tired smile.

"Let me handle this, okay?" he asked. Theta happily agreed and Alpha moved up to the audio link. "Hey, this is Command. Go ahead," he said.

"Finally! Hey! This is a distress call! We need help down here ASAP! Mayday and all that skits!" the voice yelled. Alpha blinked, confusing Theta.

"Tucker? Private Lavernius Tucker, is that you?" Alpha asked.

"Church?"

"Yeah, it's me. Where are you, what's going on?" Alpha snapped.

"Ho man, where do I start?" Tucker asked. Theta watched, a little amazed, as his brother's face both tighten and relaxed.

"How about you start with why you're calling C _ommand_ , of all places, for help?" Alpha said.

"Oh, right. Well, I was sent to this place called Sandtrap to be an ambassador, because of Junior, and then this crazy Freelancer guy moved in with these even crazier aliens. Junior wasn't on base when the take over happened, thank goodness, but now I'm locked down. The weapon these guys want is in the temple with me. I'm alone, pinned down, and stuck in a creepy aline temple with a weapon of mass destruction. I need help _now_ man," Tucker rambled. Alpha sighed, putting his forehead in his palm.

"Man, isn't this just our luck. Okay, listen, we're kinda in the middle of tearing up Command right now. Soon as we're done with this, and the former Agent Maine who's gone totally off his rocker, we'll head your way," he said.

"Wait. What are you guys doing?" Tucker asked.

"It's complicated. I'll tell you the whole thing when we meet up, I promise, but for right now you've got to trust me, sit tight, and _don't get killed_. Think you can manage that?" Tucker scoffed.

"Course I can, what do you take me for?"

"You really want me to answer that?"

"Y~eah, on second thought, don't tell me," Tucker said. An explosion sounded in the background. "Oh skits! Gotta go," he said hurriedly, then ended the transmission.

"Who was that?" Theta asked. Alpha chuckled.

"The only member of our team you haven't met yet, Theta. That was my good friend Tucker who drives me totally insane, but at least isn't as bad as Caboose. In fact, next to me, he's the sanest member of Blue team," he told his little brother. Theta shivered slightly.

"I'm not sure I'll like him," he told the bigger A.I. Alpha chuckled again and tugged Theta in for a hug.

"Oh you'll be fine. If I had to compare him to one of the others, I'd say he's like Dex, only less weapon happy and more... woman happy," he told the other A.I. Theta pondered this, then decided this Tucker person couldn't be all _that_ bad if Alpha was comparing him to Dex.

/*/

An alarm sounded and Eagle laughed. "They _just now_ sounded the alarm? Dude, what is wrong with these people?" he asked over the Project Red channel, which the Blues and Phantoms, including Wash, had been patched into.

"Uh, they're Freelancers?" Dex said over the sound of foot soldiers screaming.

"And everyone knows you don't hire freelancers for anything," Dex said, the sound of crumbling concrete in the background... wait... what?

"Dex... why did it sound like you were in two different places just now?" Eagle asked.

"Uh... I may have used the time unit to create a clone?"

"You're an idiot."

"BOYS! We've got to go. Now," Marley barked.

"Uh, yeah, 'bout that... do we have what we came for?" Church asked.

"Mostly. You and the other A.I.'s need to get the heck out of dodge. If what I think is gonna happen happens, you're not going to survive if you're too close," Marley answered.

"Right. Well, when you're done, thinks there's any chance we could hightail it over to Sandtrap? Things are expounding over there, and I don't really like it when my friends are having fun with explosions without me," Church said.

"Sand explodes? Why don't you people tell me these things!?" Caboose exclaimed.

"Uh... mostly because sand _doesn't_ explode, Caboose," Dex answered.

"Oh. Does it trap you?"

"Uh... it can?" Eagle tried, though it sounded rather like he was pondering that himself.

"FOCUS, boys, focus," Marley said.

"Right. A.I. paired Agents, to the motor pool! Rick, you get us those getaway cars?" Jack asked.

"Tuned, fueled, and ready to... _go_ ," Rick grunted, the wet sound of a knife pulling free of flesh carrying across the connection.

"R~ick~! What was that~!" Dex asked, sounding like he dreaded the answer but trying to mask it with humor.

"Oh, nothing, just me killing another Freelancer foot soldier, nothing to worry about. Hey! I said _stay out!_ Don't you guys ever listen to your mechanics?" Rick yelled before cutting the connection with a growl that sounded suspiciously like, 'Wednesdays.' Marley sighed.

"Paired Agents, get to motor pool _now._ I don't care where you are, what you're doing, or who's in your way, _just get there!"_ she barked. Eagle sighed. It was one of those days huh?

"Dex, run. I'll cover you," he said, switching out his glitter for real rounds. When Marley barked like that, you knew it was time to get serious.

/?/

A/N: Yeah. It seemed like such a good idea at the time... pretty much sums up the chapter, doesn't it?

Song credits!

I'm a Sucker for Pain – Lil Wayne, Wiz Khalifa, Logic, Ty Dolla $ign, and Imagine Dragons. Aw yeah.

Another one Bites the Dust – Queen. Admit it, it fits Dex doesn't it?

Shotgun rifle and a .45 – JB and the Moonshine Band. I believe Alpha Church said it best when he remarked, "It's a song against gun control! About _shotguns!_ " It really was the perfect song for Red.


	43. Episode 40

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB. Or anything else that is referenced.

A/N: So... it's the 40th chapter! WHOO! When I started this, I never expected to actually post it. Or for people to like it so much. The RvB fandom is one of the smallest I'm involved with, so 21 likes is pretty amazing in my mind. Anyway, I've passed my biggest Writer's Stumble in this story and the chapters may be coming in a semi steady stream, but I make no promises. I only have one more chapter pre-written and am working on Episode 42 right now(9/19/16) so... yeah. Another short hiatus might be in the works. Also, I've been really stuck on a Harry Potter story that a lot of people have been faithfully supporting(okay, maybe not, but a girl can dream!) and I might be focusing on that one soon. Okay, now that the Author's Ramble is done, enjoy the Episode!

 **Episode 40:** Business as Usual

Before long, all of the intruders were in the motor pool, having shot a great many Freelancer foot soldiers along the way. With real bullets this time, though more than half of them looked like they had already fallen prey to Eagle's specialty glitter rounds and the other half might have been caught in some of the pranks Ed, Jack, and Flowdie put up. Rick hadn't had time to do more than the break room and the barracks. "So, what's going on with you guys?" Marley asked, panting slightly.

"Glittered, under attack, surrounded by crazy, lucky, idiots. Ya know, the usual," Dex replied with a shrug, glitter falling off his armor as he did so. Everyone chose not to comment on the glitter, or the trail Dex had left. Most were pretty sure they did _not_ want to know.

"Looks like we've successfully angered the entire base. Oh and, Meta's terrorizing the place," Red remarked levelly as an explosion rocked the base.

"So what's the plan?" Wash asked, doing his best to keep his cool.

"Uh... isn't that why we're here? In the motor pool? With the _getaway cars?!_ " Dex asked.

"We're ready to head out as soon as everyone's in a car!" Rick added, already having taken the gunner position on a nearby Warthog. Dex and Red swiftly joined him while Eagle climbed on a Mongoose.

"I hate Thursdays," Dex grumbled.

"Still, you can't deny, as far was Thursdays go, this one hasn't been too bad!" Eagle retorted, revving his engine.

"It doesn't matter. We need to get out of here," Flowdie said. Marley nodded and handed him the bag she'd stuffed Epsilon in.

"Get this out of the blast radius," she told him. Flowdie nodded.

"Ed, Jack, Church, get in and follow me," he said.

"But we need him!" Wash protested, reaching out to Church. Marley snorted, grabbing the mildly whiny Freelancer by the back of his chest plate and dragging him away. The others wisely hid their laughter.

"No we don't, nitwit. Have you forgotten who made dummies of both Delta and Theta?" she said. Wash stopped struggling and turned to look at her, missing the rest of the vehicles pulling away.

"You made a dummy of Alpha?" he asked. Marley nodded.

"I made those dummies over a _long_ period of time. When I wasn't training Reds, blowing up stuff, or saving redeemable Freelancers. Dummy!Alpha is as perfect as I can make him and will be enough to at least stall Meta while we activate the EMP. How many of Eagle's glitter rounds do you have left?" she told him.

"Uh... let me check," Wash said, putting actions to words. "Wow, a whole clip. Huh, I thought Eagle only gave me one?"

"In his words, 'If it's worth doing, it's worth overdoing,'" Marley said with a grin. "And that meant giving you double what you asked for. Which, in this case, is absolutely perfect. So! Armed with glitter, dummy A.I., and a large EMP, let's take down Freelancer!" Wash shook his head at her.

"We're all gonna die. Or go to jail. Or both," he muttered. Marley shrugged.

"We'll get out eventually," she said, totally uncaring.

"What if we die?" Wash asked, twisting so he was able to move forward under his own power.

"Then we die," Marley said with a shrug.

"You really have no soul, do you?"

"Shut up and move."

/*/

Flowdie looked back at the be-glittered base and fallen Freelancer troops. "You think..." he began, only to yelp as Dex bumped his Warthog.

"Don't worry about them. We need to get as far away as we can. Gary might be a jerk, but I'm not letting him get fried by that EMP, got it?" the man growled. Flowdie sighed, but nodded.

"I got it. It's just..."

"Hey, this is Marley we're talking about! She'll be fine. Besides, I think she held back at least a clip full of glitter. And that's not counting the lethal rounds she no doubt has on her! Or her syringes! Oh, and don't forget the scalpels!" Eagle told the man.

"Yeah man, they'll be fine. The worst that'll happen is them getting arrested, and we'll get them out as soon as we can, alright? So stop worrying," Ed told the still fretting Flowdie.

"You're right. We need to focus. Where are we headed?" Flowdie asked.

"Uh... the nearest base is kinda mad at us and the other one is Valhalla," Kai said.

"Valhalla it is," Dex said, adjusting course. Theta popped up and Wagner's Ride of the Valkyries began playing. Jack chuckled.

"Who taught you that?" he asked his A.I. Theta appeared sheepish.

"Big brother," he muttered. Church cackled.

"Hit him for me would you?" Jack asked, and Kai obliged.

"OW! Yeah, I guess I deserved that," Church said, rubbing the back of his head.

"How do you even feel that? You're a robot!" Ed asked, unable to contain it any longer. Church shrugged.

"I'm just awesome like that," he said.

"I'm not mad at you for teaching Theta how to be a DJ, I just wanted you to stop cackling," Jack explained. Church turned to him.

"You could have just asked," he said, crossing his arms petulantly. "Oh and, nice choice little brother." Theta seemed to glow a little brighter at the praise and Jack filed the reaction away for future reference.

/*/

The PA system was declaring a security breach as Marley and Wash cruised down the corridors, dodging disarrayed Freelancer troops and staying two steps ahead of Meta. Seriously, they didn't have to worry about getting caught or shot by anyone the base was in such disarray. Finally, they reached their destination. "Agent Washington. Good to see you again," came the Counselor's voice.

"Oh, hello. Are you somewhere nearby, Counselor? Somewhere we can say hello in person?" Wash asked, his calm politeness doing little to mask the venom in his voice.

"Sorry Agent Washington, but we were more than prepared for this... eventuality. I'm afraid we will not be able to see each other in person today," the faceless voice said. Marley scoffed.

"Oh please. There's no way you planned for us driving up in tanks, then running a muck with spray paint, glue, feathers, permanent markers, and gratuitous amounts of glitter. That _had_ to have come straight out of left field for you guys," she said.

"Uh... we're kind of on a timetable," Wash said, shooting a rather ineffective look Marley's way. It made _him_ feel better at least.

"There is someone else here who would like to speak with you," the Counselor said, neither confirming nor denying Marley's statement. This caused the woman to cross her arms with a huff, which drew a short laugh from Wash.

"Well hello, Agent Washington," drawled a smug southerner, drawing their attention to a large robotic arm holding a large glowing... thing.

"Seriously. What is that? A ripoff of GalDos?" Marley muttered. "Or was it Guilty Spark? Oh Oh! That would be fitting!"

"The Director himself, I should be honored. Emphasis on _should_ ," Wash drawled, deciding to ignore them and focus on wiping the base clean... as far as electrical equipment went at least. And whatever the A.I. had done to the computers would have carried over to other areas as well, seeing as it was a network. It'd take Freelancer weeks, if not longer, to get everything straight again.

"Yes, I realize it has been a while since we've spoke, David. May I call you David?" the Director said.

"No, you cannot. You gave me my new name, the least you can do it use it," Wash snapped. Marley whistled.

"Hoo, burn! You just got burned Director Fussy Breeches!" she said, pointing a dramatic finger at the large robotic arm that held the glowing eyeball.

"Agent... Oregon?"

"Ho? What's this? Is the mighty Director of Project Freelancer... shocked? Confused? I never thought I'd live to see the day. How's your daughter doing these days?" Marley asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about," the Director denied. Marley laughed cynically, her entire being projecting condescension and tightly coiled anger, but not rage.

"Sure you do, you just don't want to admit it. Don't want to face up to what you've done, what you've become. You can feel it, can't you? Your conscience nagging at the back of your mind, whispering those velvety soft words of poison. 'Monster. Failure. You're the reason they're both gone. Everything you touch turns to ash. Your actions drove her away. Tyrant. Villain.' It'll eat away at you, piece by piece, until you are nothing but a wasted husk of a man... and I pity you. I will pity you long after you are gone, for you are so very sad. So very, very, _sad_ ," she said hissed. Wash whistled, shaking his head.

"Game set and _match_ ," he muttered. That was when Meta arrived. "A~nd now Meta's here. Wonderful," he added, activating the containment field, cutting Meta off from him and Marley.

"Well, the prodigal son returns. Agent Maine, you've caused quite a few problems for us. You will _not_ be leaving this time," the Director said, skillfully ignoring Wash's comments as well as Marley's.

"Huh. So selective deafness is a trait passed down through the Church family for _generations!_ Eh?" Marley queried. Wash gave her a confused look.

"Where did that come from?" he asked. She shrugged.

"Some old tv show from Japan about alchemists and mad scientists trying to bring about the destruction of an entire civilization," she said. Wash nodded, ignoring the Director and the Meta. And the Counselor, if he was still hanging around listening.

"Fitting," the rouge Freelancer quipped.

"Yeah, I thought so."

"STOP IGNORING ME!" the Director shouted at them from his hidden speaker.

"Wow. Whiny McAgnstyPants much?" Marley asked, causing Wash to bite back laughter.

"Anyway, I think I've said that myself about twenty times in the last few weeks. Good luck holding him, Director Dr. Church sir!" Wash said, much more flippantly than he would have before his base wide pranking spree. Really, it's amazing how much stress and anger can be relieved with a few well placed pratfalls. And don't forget the glitter rounds. "I really need to find out how he _makes_ those," Wash muttered to himself.

"You would be surprised what we are capable of," the Director began, only to be cut off by Marley.

"Smug," she remarked. The Director nearly floundered, but quickly recovered.

"Even from this distance," he tried, only to have Marley once more make a disruptive statement.

"Hiding, always a good strategy when you have a super soldier with an ax to grind coming after you so they can grind their ax on your skull," she remarked, examining her gloves.

"I suggest you work with us if you expect to survive this," the Director said, mentally rejoicing as he finally pulled off a sentence without getting interrupted.

"Smug," Marley remarked, now pulling out her favorite combat scalpel to check it for any kind of damage. In his bunker, the Director scowled at the video feed.

"I'm sorry, did something about my actions indicate I expect to survive?" Wash asked, causing Marley to jerk away with a drawn out, 'DANG!'

"World class Smug coupled with a Sick BURN! Oh, you're going down Director!"

"Clearance verified. The failsafe is now online. Awaiting activation," the PA system announced.

"OH! And a ringer! What 'cha gonna do now Director? Huh? What's your next move?" Marley asked, eyes glittering under her visor.

"How did you get those codes?" asked the Director, ignoring Marley for the larger threat of Washington.

"You might be surprised what I know, Director," Wash remarked calmly, still working on the EMP.

"Warning, this is a last resort measure. Activating the failsafe will destroy all electronic equipment in this facility, including this terminal. Please confirm."

"It was Epsilon. He inherited the memories, didn't he," the Director remarked, doing an admiral job of covering his emotions with Smug.

"I wonder if Alpha picked up any of that Smug..." Marley muttered faintly enough it wasn't transmitted to the Director.

"I've known about what you did since the moment you implanted him in me," Wash revealed, finally turning to regard the glowing eyeball.

"Wait. I just thought of something. If you've known that long... why didn't you go to the authorities before now? Why wait for the A.I.? Why the elaborate scheme? Why the long game when you could have called it long ago?" Marely asked. Wash shrugged.

"I'm a product of Project Freelancer, none of us are quite right in the head," he said. Marley nodded.

"True that. I've known longer than you and I waited it out so the Blood Gulch Crew could grow and then help out elsewhere. I'm as guilty of procrastination as you are," she said.

"I'm sorry, Agent Washington, Agent Oregon, but Project Freelance no longer has need of your services," the Director interjected, reminding them of his presence.

"Smug."

"Stop that."

"Touchy much, Director?"

"Program! Disable interior shield!"

"Desperate."

"Eh, Marley? Did he just do what I think he did?" Wash asked, watching Meta carefully.

"That depends. Do you think he just asked a computer to turn off the shields? Or do you think he just set an insane Maine on us to do his dirty work?" the woman asked, pulling out her big guns.

"Agent Maine, please kill Agent Washington... and the former Agent Oregon," the Director asked.

"Then yeah, he just did what you think he did," Marley quipped, firing a faintly glowing yellow syringe at the Meta, who had drawn his weapon at the same time as Wash. The syringe hit Meta, making him fall to one knee. "That won't do much, that was one of my non-lethal poisons," Marley revealed.

"Why, in a fight to the death, do you load your weapon... _with non-lethal rounds!?_ " Wash asked, shooting Meta in the head. Glitter exploded across the visor. Wash dropped his head with what sounded suspiciously like a whimper.

"Haha! Instant Karma for da win~!" sang Marley.

"I just can't win," her partner muttered before a wild shot from Meta impacted his shoulder, dropping him.

"Alert: incoming recovery beacon. Level zero. Immediate response necessary," the base system declared as Meta closed in.

"Agent Washington, I fear this is one recovery beacon you won't be responding to. Kill him, Agent Maine," the Director's cold voice said. Marley snarled and fired another syringe, now filled with green liquid. Somehow, Meta avoided it.

"Where is it?" a quiet, maddened, voice asked.

"Where is Alpha?" another whispered.

"Where is it?"

"The Alpha is not here. It has been moved far away. _Attend to the matter at hand_ ," the Director snarled.

"Not Smug."

"Would you stop that!?"

"Winning~!"

"Agent Maine, what the Director's trying to say, is that we can discuss the Alpha later. What's important is that you prove that you can be trusted again. We need to trust you before letting you meet the Alpha. Wouldn't you agree?" the Counselor tried to coax, only to have his 'calming' words ripped apart by Marley snickering and Wash saying,

"You know Meta, why wait? Why don't you meet him, right now?" Marley's Dummy!Alpha popped up beside him.

"Hi there," he quipped, giving a small salute with his by-now iconic sniper rifle. The A.I. Marley hadn't managed to extract from the Meta appeared around him.

"It's him!"

"Alpha!"

"Alpha!"

/*/

Somewhere closer to Valhalla than Freelancer Command... "Why do I get the sudden feeling that I'm being replaced?" Church asked, holding on as Kai drove over a large rock, nearly tossing him from the vehicle.

"Probably because Wash and Marley just used their dummy of you to trick the few A.I. that Marley didn't get away from Meta," Dex said. Church shot him a look.

"Did you hack their radios?" he asked.

"Nah. I had Gary patch my helmet into the base's security system, at least for audio/visual. He actually seemed happy to do it. Sounded less mechanical too. Also, he's recording it straight from the base, so we can share the fun with everyone else," Dex answered, expertly guiding his Warthog around another large rock. There were a lot of big rocks around.

"Sweet. And it won't hurt him?" Jack asked. Dex shook his head.

"Nah. When the EMP is activated, he knows to terminate the link. No backlash," he said.

"Good thinking," the Phantom allowed with a nod.

"Well, he is a Church," Alpha said, slightly Smug.

"Oh don't flatter yourself," Dex muttered. Alpha Church snickered and Dex shot a look toward his sister. "Mako," he told her. She chuckled evilly and popped her vehicle up on two wheels, riding around the largest spire of rock she could reach. The other Blues screamed, clinging to the metal for dear life. The Grif's just laughed.

"YOU'RE INSANE!" Church yelled, Caboose just yelling for the heck of it.

"'Course she is! She's a Grif!" Dex called cheerfully.

"I HATE YOU ALL!"

"Ah~! It's the little things," the weapons expert muttered contentedly. Eagle chuckled.

"You're one of the few people I know who..." he began.

"I'm gonna stop you right there Eagle. You've said enough," Rick said with a smirk. The other Reds laughed and the Phantoms shook their heads. Looks like they'd traded one crazy team for another.

/*/

Back at the Freelancer compound, Dummy!Church turned to Wash and said, "You know, I can see why you didn't want anyone else in your head. Got some pretty heavy stuff going on there. I think you need to talk to a professional."

"That's too bad. I just officially lost my job, and we had great mental health coverage," Wash quipped, gritting his teeth against the pain in his shoulder.

"How much time do you need?" the Dummy!Alpha asked.

"As much as you can get me. When the EMP goes off..."

"When it goes off, I'll be fine. It only affects computers, remember? And I, am a mother-fudging ghost," Dummy!Church said, entering the Meta's armor, messing with the A.I. still inside.

"What's goin' on!?" the Director asked.

"Agent Washington, please, there is time. If you would just secure Agent Maine, we can discuss this situation in a more civilized manner," the Counselor tried. Wash shook his head.

"No, we can't," he said, punching the Button of Doom.

"Thank you, failsafe initiated. Activating emp," said the computer.

" _Emp!?_ You have got to be fudging wi..." Wash remarked, stunned, right before the EMP went off and the electronics began to fail in a wave. Marley sighed and accepted it, taking off her helmet with heavy arms as her suit's functions fluctuated and failed.

"There goes that bit of antimony," she muttered darkly.

/*/

A week later, the Reds and Blues were in Valhalla, which had been officially turned over to them by the UNSC as a reward for turning in all the data they'd stolen from Freelancer. Of course, they weren't just going to go back to business as usual, that would have been impossible. Marley had been arrested along with Wash and there were new faces in the canyon. "I hate you!" Church yelled, only to cut off with a yelp as Jack smacked him.

"Tell me something I don't know," he remarked, then pointed to the target. "Now hit it or you lose tv privileges!"

"Slave driver."

"It works doesn't it?" Jack remarked smugly. Church grumbled, but tried to line the shot up one more time. On the other side of the base, Flowdie was trying to train Caboose.

" _How in the world did you light it on fire?!_ " Emphasis on _trying_.

"Not my fault. Tucker did it."

"You can't blame someone who isn't here!"

"... Church did it."

"No cookies for you."

"..."

"Please stop looking at me like that." Caboose's Cabooseness was proving difficult to train. Meanwhile, Rick was working with the Epsilon unit, trying to get the damaged A.I. to come out.

"Ya know, this feels like a fresh start for us, Rick," Dex said, coming to sit beside the tech. On his table.

"Then why do I get the feeling that we've had this conversation before?" Rick asked, mostly ignoring his teammate. Or, as much as he could. Ignoring people is kind of hard when they sit on your workstation.

"Just think," Dex persisted, spreading his hands out as though he were enlarging a photo, "you know how people say, 'if you knew then what you know now?' Well, that person is you and you already know it! And the 'then' is right now!" Rick stopped, blinked, and looked to his teammate in complete confusion.

"What the heck?" he asked. Dex turned to him with a grin, the twinkle in his amber eyes betraying his amusement.

"I don't know, I just wanted to get your attention," he said. Rick rolled his eyes and went back to work on the A.I. unit. "Seriously though, don't you regret anything from our last assignment? Like all your mistakes?" Dex asked, leaning back on his hands and looking over at his friend. Rick set down his tools and wiped his hands on a nearby rag.

"Dex... there's a lot from both Blood Gulch and Rat's Nest that I regret, but I wouldn't be who I am without having gone through that," he said, turning to his larger teammate. Dex nodded, accepting his friend's point.

"I guess so. Hey, now that we know the whole war thing was a lie, and the Blues sort of know it too, think we can switch out the lethal rounds for lock down paint or Eagle's glitter rounds?" A devious smile slowly slid across Rick's face.

"Sometimes, I love the way your mind works," he said, then shot a glance back at the A.I. unit Flowdie had entrusted him with.

"Don't worry about Epsilon, Rick. I bet he hears everything we're saying. He's just... grieving. Trying to come to terms with what's going on," Dex said, hopping down from the table. Rick shook his head.

"He's had..."

"Who knows how time is messed up in holographic storage Rick. He might have been held in suspended animation, shutting down his processors. Give him some time, come terrorize the Blues with me, and we'll tell him stories when we get back to help ground him in his new reality," Dex coaxed and by the look in Rick's eyes, he knew he'd won. Leaving the A.I. unit alone in Rick's quiet room, the two put their armor back on and headed out to find Red. The gruff Texan was outside working on a Warthog when the two found him. Of course, as soon as they found him, the Warthog threw off whatever part Red was working on, causing him to curse. Loudly.

"Rick, Dex! Front and Center!" he bellowed, after getting his curses out first.

"Uh, turn around Red," Rick said gently, Dex trying to contain his amusement. Honestly, ya take a guy to prank a few Freelancers and steal all their valuable data and suddenly he's amused by everything. Red turned and exclaimed happily when he saw his two soldiers right behind him.

"There you are! Men, we've got a situation on our hands here," he told them.

"Define 'situation,' Red," Dex drawled, a little less amused.

"I'm trying to upgrade the Warthog's weapon system," Red said. Dex chuckled, shaking his head.

"I'm gonna stop you right there, Red. Who's in charge of weapons around here?" he asked pointedly. Red grumbled but finally said,

"You are." Dex nodded, taking the wrench from Red's hand.

"That's right. I am. And I say, we put the Warthog back together, and don't try to upgrade what is already awesome," he said, already crouched down and putting action to words.

"Out of curiosity, what were you trying to upgrade the systems to?" Rick asked, crossing his arms and regarding his second Sargent curiously.

"Electric pulse technology," Red answered easily. Dex brained him with the wrench.

"Nice throw," Rick remarked dryly only to be ignored by both teammates. Poor Rick.

"While that is brilliant in its unexpectedness, it is as stupid as turning Rick into a cyborg. An emp would just make us sitting ducks in a fried jeep. You'd be better off making a cannon that fired lock-down paint, or heat seekers, or rockets. Leave the emps to suicide missions and reckless Freelancers," Dex told his downed compatriot without even bothering to turn around from his newest job.

"Isn't working anyway. I was gonna call Lopez to do it for me, but we don't have power here," Red said. Dex shook his head, reaching for the wrench again.

"I will never understand how your brain works," he muttered as he tried to fix what Red had messed up.

"Looks like the blues have the power on," Red remarked randomly. Dex sighed, watching the blue pulse coming from the blue base. The irony was not lost on him.

"We need to get someone over there, see how they did it. Rick, that'll be you," Red said. Rick quirked an eyebrow and turned to Dex who sighed.

"Well, it would be nice having the long range radio working again, and AC would be nice. Not to mention the fact that having the power up and running would help with any plans to get Marley and Wash out of prison. Go on, I wouldn't know what was what anyway," the man said, turning back to the Warthog and moaning. Rick chuckled and turned to head over to Blue base. "Oh and, check on Kai for me would you?"

"Of course Dex," Rick said, chuckling faintly. Kai really did have one heck of a big brother.

"Dex! Stop fussing with that and get up there, figure out why our base isn't firing the blue blotamjiggy," Red yelled. Rick swiftly departed, not wanting to get in the middle of _that_. Dex stood up and looked at their base... and how tall the spire on top of it was. He swallowed nervously.

"That's... really high. Do... do we uh, have a ladder or... something?" he asked.

"Oh, sure, an eight hundred foot ladder? Of course not ya idiot! Now get to shimmyin'," Red retorted, giving absolutely no cares. Dex whimpered.

"I really hate heights," he muttered, walking up to the base, then stopped. "Wait. I'm the senior agent, officially the same rank as you, and you're still considered AWOL. I don't have to listen to you. So, I'm going to wait for Rick to get back. And while I wait, I'm going to keep working on getting the Warthog fully operational again," he said, walking off. Red gaped after him, then slumped with a groan.

"I knew it was too good to be true," he lamented.

/*/

While Dex worked on the Warthog, muttering about ladders and senile old coots, Rick was watching, rather amused, as Flowdie once more tried to teach Caboose how to properly aim his gun. "No no, that's not how you... how have you ever managed to hit anything?" the black and cyan soldier asked in exasperation.

"I point and shoot Flow man," Caboose remarked. Rick snickered, after making sure his helmet mic was off. Flowdie sighed, dropping his head into his hands.

"Okay. Ya know what? Just call me Butch. Lets... go for a run and... come back to this later."

"Aw~, but it was just getting good," Rick remarked, sauntering up to the pair. Flowdie sighed again.

"What do you want Rick," he asked. Rick shrugged and looked around.

"Nothing much. Just wanted to see how you got your power on and check on Kai," he said. Nodding, the other man pointed toward where the sounds of pain could be heard.

"I think she's watching Jack try to teach Church how to use his sniper rifle." Rick chuckled.

"Yeah, that's pretty amusing. Almost as amusing as watching you trying to teach Caboose. Now, about that power issue?"

"It was on when we got here, though you should check the port at the top of the base, see if it's clogged."

"What would that have to do with the power?" Flowdie shrugged.

"I dunno, but the pulse thing has _something_ to do with the base's power supply," he said. Rick shook his head and headed in the direction Flowdie had pointed out.

"Right. Thanks Flowdie," he said, not turning to see the other man raise a hand in fair well before turning back to his... special... student. Rick chuckled as he ran toward where he hoped Kai was. Even if he didn't get any useful information, at least he would get some quality entertainment. Sure enough, he found the younger Grif watching Jack and Church. "Kai," he said, joining her in the watching of the failing.

"Hey Rick," the young woman answered.

"Red's trying to get power at out base and Dex wanted me to check in on you."

"That's nice. Did you try turning it on?" Kai asked, totally focused on Jack beating Church with what looked like a rather thick manual.

"Yeah... still working on that. So, the other reason I'm here... How are you doing?" Rick said. Kai shrugged.

"Eh, can't complain. Though... I do kind of miss Tucker," she said. Rick winced, but didn't comment on that last part.

"Right. I'll tell Dex he's being a worrywart again and that you're perfectly fine," he said, already headed back to his own base. Yep, things were as close to business as usual as it could be... for the Reds anyway.

"OW!"

"I wouldn't have had to do that if you did it correctly the first _hundred times!_ " Huh, sounded like Church had worn through Jack's legendary calm. Rick sped up to avoid any stray rounds.

/?/

A/N: Yeah... Marley's brilliant plan had to fail somehow, somewhere, right? Let me know what you thought in that lovely little box down below!


	44. Episode 41

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB or any other works referenced in this Episode of Madness.

A/N: Okay, so I said there might be a necessary, temporary hiatus, but I couldn't help myself! I had to give you this. Enjoy.

 **Episode 41:** Working Out some Frustration

When Rick returned, he found his two Sargents yelling at each other. He sighed, visor palming. "And here I thought we'd have a fairly normal day," he muttered. Dex looked over at him and nodded.

"Oh good, you're back," he said, then pointed to the top of the base. "How would you go about checking to see if there's something blocking the blue pulsy thing that should be coming out of there?" Rick looked, shrugged, and turned on his com. link.

"Hey Eagle, where you at?" he asked, then blinked as he heard Dex slam his head into the base.

"Stupid stupid _stupid!_ Why didn't I think of that?" the man muttered, repeatedly slamming his head into the wall. Rick shook his head and Eagle answered,

"On top of the canyon wall, watching our fearless leader trying to give himself brain damage. Why?"

"Would you take a look at the top of the base and see if there's anything blocking the pulsy thing that's supposed to be coming out of it? Please?" Dex asked, a little unsteady from his repeated bashing of his head. Eagle chuckled, but complied.

"Ah, yep, there's wreckage from the Pelican up there. Now what?" he told his teammates on the ground.

"Think you could blast it loose?" Dex asked.

"Grenade or bullet?" Eagle asked.

"You're the long range expert, use your own discretion. Just... try not to kill us."

"You could just go inside. No need to worry about falling debris." Rick shared a look with Dex and Red, then tromped off into the base.

"Have fun, I'm gonna go try to get Epsilon ready to work with Marley," he said. "Call me when you're ready for the paint match against the Blues."

"What was that about a paint match?" Eagle asked, perking up.

"Just take the shot would ya?" Dex barked and the sniper grumbled slightly, but complied. Soon the debris was out of the way and power was flowing through the Red Base once more.

"There, power's back, now what were you saying about a paint match?"

"Oh. Just that because the Blues sort of know about the whole Red Vs Blue thing being a lie there was no reason for us to be using lethal rounds on them and missing on purpose so as not to kill them. I suggested to Rick that we load our weapons with lock down paint or your special glitter rounds and have some fun," Dex said. Eagle chuckled.

"Count me in!" he said.

"Hey Eagle! Make yerself useful and spy on the Blues!" Red ordered over the Red Army open channel.

"Belay that, do what you want. We're basically on leave until we've come up with a way to get Marley and Wash out of jail," Dex countered over the Project Red channel. Eagle smirked. Having two Sargents on base could be confusing sometimes, but Dex balanced out Red rather nicely, making it tolerable.

/*/

With the power back on, Red called in Lopez and the robot swiftly got to work on the plans Red had sent him. "Wait wait wait... how did you not only get here from Blood Gulch but also build all this... in only a few moments?!" Dex asked as he looked around the massive underground holographic simulation room, momentarily losing his cool. Not that anyone could blame him, Lopez showed up approximately a second after Red called him, then had the aforementioned room completed about three seconds later, elevator and all. It was pretty dang impressive.

"I am just that awesome," Lopez droned... for once in perfect English. Dex chuckled, shaking his head at the robot.

"Yes, yes you are," he said, striding forward into the holographic simulation room. It was huge, dug out under the base, and far more advanced than anything they'd had at their bases previously. "Hey Gary, using this room, we might actually be able to play that chess game I promised you."

"You? Play chess? Against an A.I? Oh, this I gotta see," Rick remarked, carrying the Epsilon unit down into the room. "And when did Lopez have time to excavate this, put in an elevator, and instal holographic technology?"

"Er... he had a moment. And he's awesome. So... he did it in the blink of an eye," Dex said, shrugging helplessly.

"Huh... makes sense to me," Rick said, setting the Epsilon unit down on a holographic table. "Wow. Hard light. Very nice," he said, nodding toward Lopez.

"Thank you, Rick," the robot told him.

"Um... why did you bring Epsilon down here? And how did you even know it was down here?" Dex asked.

"Oh, Eagle told me. He's really quite observant. Also, A.I. unit in a holographic simulator. I'm sure you know what that means," Rick answered, still trying to coax Epsilon out.

"Right. Hey... while this holographic simulation room is cool and all... why did you ask Lopez to build it Red?" Dex asked.

"So we could test out my new design!" Red said, a holographic Warthog appearing behind him with a big cannon. Dex sighed, palming his visor.

"Well, at least he's not mucking around with _my_ jeep... wait." He turned to Red _real_ slow. "You already tried this with our only jeep... didn't you?" he asked, voice dangerously low. Red shuffled then pointed off down the hall.

"Hey look, it's yer sister!" he yelled. Dex growled and began stalking toward the older man.

"Oi oi oi! Lopez and I are the mechanics who are going to have to attempt to put the thing back to rights. If anything, _we're_ the ones who should be mad!" Rick said, standing and rounding on Red.

"Hey hey hey! Weren't you more interested in getting Epsilon ready for Marley?" Dex asked, dropping his irritation with Red for the moment. Rick sighed and turned to the unit.

"Honestly... I think telling him about our past exploits would be our best bet, but I'm not quite up that right now. I barely know where to begin! So, how about we approach Flowdie about that paint match, curb-stomp the Blues, and come back to it in the morning?" he said, looking back at Dex. The other man grinned, nodded, and made his way back into the base proper to call Flowdie.

/*/

Listening to the Red's idea, Flowdie had to agree it would be an excellent training exercise and gave them the go ahead... as long as they provided the rounds for Blue team as well. Easily agreeing to those terms, the match was set. "Alright Blue Team! We have your Lock Down Paint weapons in these two crates. Once we deliver them, give us fifteen minutes to return to our base. When those fifteen minutes are done, the Game is Afoot and the Paint Bath begins. We will give you No Quarter! The match is over when one Team is completely vanquished. Also, we included identifiers so that Kai will _finally_ be able to tell friend from foe. You get all that?" Dex called as they arrived before the Blue Base.

"Yes sir!" Jack called as Flowdie came out to claim the crates.

"I won't ask you to hold Kai back... but do try to keep her out of my way. I'd hate to 'kill' my own sister," Dex told the man. Flowdie chuckled and nodded.

"I understand. I'll send Caboose your way instead," he said, sadistic glee so thick in his voice a deaf man could have heard it. Dex chuckled as well.

"Knucklehead driving you mad?" he asked.

"Oh-ho, you have no idea," Flowdie remarked. The orange soldier shook his head and helped the other man move the crates inside.

"DEX!" shouted Kai, causing her brother to turn. He was just in time to catch the speeding young woman, though he had to spin her around to bleed off some momentum. "You weren't thinking of leaving without saying anything, were you?" she asked. An all too familiar shiver ran down the men's spines and they turned to share mildly scared looks.

"Marley taught her well," they said as one, causing Kai to huff.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" she asked pointedly.

"Ah, it's nothing, really," Dex said, turning to give his baby sister a wary smile, even if it was lost behind his helmet. Ah well, thought that counts... right? She glared, or at least he got the feeling she was, then sighed and laid her head on her brother's shoulder.

"Why don't you visit Dex?" she asked. "I miss you just as much now as I did before all this craziness." Dex huffed out a laugh, seeing as she was still latched onto him.

"You're one to talk," he said, then pried her off. "Look, once I'm gone, you have fifteen minutes before all bets are off, the kid gloves are gone, and it's all out war. The only ammo is going to be non-lethal lock-down paint, but it still hurts like a bad _nalu_ and will, as the name implies, lock you down. If you get hit, you're effectively dead, understand?" he told her. She nodded and Dex took a step back. "I'm not the same Dex you remember, Kai. I'm a soldier, and this fight we're about to get into... I'm going to enjoy it. A chance to fight without holding back, without fear, without guilt? It's a dream come true, but I need to know that you will fight with everything you have and that, while you know you're not going to actually die, you try to stay alive. Can you promise me that?"

"Sure! Marley'd be mad if I didn't!" Kai said cheerfully. "I'm looking forward to fighting you Bro!" Dex shook his head.

"I don't want to fight you, Kai. I've already requested that your commanding officer do his best to keep you out of my way. And Flowdie has requested that I take on Caboose in this match," he told her. She huffed and Dex could just picture her puffing out her cheeks.

"Fine. But I call dibs on you for the next match!" she declared, leveling a finger at him. The two men chuckled and Dex swept her a bow.

"Then I shall try to make arrangements for another match, but no promises," he said.

/*/

Weapons delivered, guns loaded, close combat soldiers muttering disturbingly while playing with their favorite tools, snipers cackling evilly in their helmets, and A.I. running figures and strategies in the backs of their minds, the teams were ready to begin the match. The Reds had been waiting for this since before O'Malley was set loose in Blood Gulch, the Phantoms had been itching to shot something for a solid week, and the Blues were... the Blues. Honestly, the only Blue who was looking forward to the match wasn't even Blue. She was yellow, and quite happy that her brother had finally gotten around to handing out those identifiers. It was so nice not to have to rely on voices to put names to helmets. "You understand what you're to do?" Flowdie asked her, a little anxious. Kai rolled her eyes and hoisted her gun.

"Uh, yehah! Get inside Eagle's reach, knock his gun from his hand, Headshot, then steal his rifle and Headshot as many Reds as I can," she said. "Easy."

"And try not to fall for the same tactic that let you take out Eagle," Flowdie added. She rolled her eyes again.

"Please, I'm good for getting down and dirty," she said, causing him to palm his visor. She chuckled quietly to herself. Man it was fun doing that! She could see why her brother enjoyed messing with people so much. Flowdie gave a long, shuddering sigh, then waved her off.

"Just... get into position. The fifteen minute grace period is almost up... for both teams," he muttered. Kai snorted.

"Do you practice in front of the mirror? Because no-one's born with such impressive melodrama," she jabbed. He growled and jabbed his finger toward her starting position.

"Just get!" he barked before hefting his rifle and stomping off muttering about women. Kai snickered and bounced into position.

"You should be careful Kai. Flowdie's got a mean right hook," Church's voice remarked quietly in her ear.

"Yeah. He acts all fun-loving and innocent, but under that... well. He earned his place in Project Freelancer," Jack said. Kai frowned. Was the loveable Flowdie she knew hiding a ruthless warrior? She suddenly wasn't all that keen on pushing him.

/*/

Eagle saw the yellow armor coming a mile away. Literally. He cackled as he lined up the shot. "Sorry Sista, but you're gonna have to be a bit more stealthy if you want to sneak up on me," he said with an evil grin before he pulled the trigger. He watched to make sure it impacted, knocking Kai down and out of the fight, before he quickly scanned the landscape with both eyes and motion trackers. Oh he knew that if they got inside his motion trackers there was a good chance that he'd be done for, but he could still radio it in to Dex. No-one was near or headed for him and he began looking for the Phantoms. He saw Jack go down and smirked. "Nice shot," he commented lowly to Ed. He heard the sound of a sniper shell being ejected and a quiet chuckle.

"He was moving," Ed said. Eagle chuckled back.

"True that," he answered before returning to scanning the field for Flowdie. Dex burst out of a convenient clump of bushes and ambushed Caboose, shooting him once in the shoulder, once in the head, and once in the knee, before darting away. Eagle blinked. "Huh. Never knew Dex was the ambush type," he muttered.

"Brutal man, brutal," Ed breathed. Eagle could only imagine the size the man's eyes had flown to at the sight of the Blue team Human Tank getting taken out like that.

"Oh there's no doubt that Dex is brutal but that... huh. I guess this is what happens when he knows exactly what he's up against, knows the terrain, has time to plan, and can go all out. Plus, Caboose is the least competent soldier in this canyon. Caboose didn't stand a chance, no matter how strong he is," Eagle informed his fellow sniper.

"When you lay it all out like that... Yeah, Rick was right. We're going to curb-stomp them," Ed said, watching as Red and Rick tag-teamed Flowdie. Eagle thought he saw Dex creeping around the back of Blue Base, headed for an all too visible Church who had survived thus far because neither sniper could get a good angle on him. Seriously, for such an easily found sniper, Church had done a good job at finding protective cover. Eagle grinned.

"Church is about to be schooled, Dex Style," he remarked evilly.

"Oh wait wait! Let me snipe Flowdie first Dex!" Ed hissed eagerly. The orange shape stilled for a second, then seemed to melt into the canyon wall. A moment later, Flowdie was down. "You're clear to take the base."

"I wonder if this will be as one sided as Dex vs Caboose."

"Maybe. Maybe Dex will want to put on a show."

"Hum... as much as he likes a good fight, something tells me he's going more for total domination rather than a work out."

"Wait. There's a difference?"

"Of course. At least, in situations like this there is. See, Dex could have _not_ ambushed Caboose and merely taken him head on. That course of action would have given Caboose a fighting chance and Dex a work out as he'd be taking on someone at least as physically strong as him, if not stronger. Caboose is inexperienced and a little slow, so given time, Dex would have him down and out, especially since he still has his gun. By ambushing him, Dex didn't give Caboose a chance and thus, totally dominated their fight. See? Two totally different approaches with the same result."

"Huh. Shush shush! Dex is on the roof!" And Ed's hissed statement, Eagle refocused his scope to allow him to watch. He also double checked that his helmet was recording. He didn't want the others to miss out, and he had one of the best seats in the house.

/*/

The crunch of a boot on concrete. That was all the warning Church had before a paint round impacted where his head had been a moment before. "Yikes!" he yelped, rolling over onto his back. His optics could just barely make out the figure on the other side of the base, crouched on the ramp with the base itself shielding most of him. "How did I not notice you?!" he asked the figure.

"Project Red armor. Freelancers aren't the only ones with cool gadgets, Alpha," Dex growled. Church felt like someone had poured ice water down his non-existent spine and Fear started squealing in his mind. He forcefully pushed fear aside and moved as quickly as he could, attempting to get in a headshot. He was denied, but Dex wasn't. The Red Agent had fired a millisecond before Church, his bullet missing the robot's and impacting on his visor. Instantly, the armor's systems went into lock down and Dex let out a slow breath. Church's holographic self exited the locked down armor and Dex did a double take. "How... ?"

"I'm an awesome Smart A.I. that survived fragmentation and then went on a jaunt through Marlene White's head to learn how to be human. You're really going to question my ability to exit a suit of armor that's gone into recovery mode?" Church said, crossing his holographic arms and quirking a glowing black eyebrow at the armored man. Dex sighed.

"You make an excellent point, Church," he said, deciding it was best not to question how he could project himself in multiple colors. It wasn't worth the verbal backhands.

"So... I guess you guys win," Church said, turning to look out at the canyon. Dex chuckled.

"Was there ever any doubt? You have two Phantoms, two A.I., my sister, Caboose, and your aim is still atrocious, sad to say. We, however, have what amounts to a full team of Phantoms, two active A.I., and our aim is at the very least pretty good," he said. Church sighed and looked at his frozen body.

"Any chance you could help me get that stuff off? Heh, holo-hands aren't the best for chiseling one's head out of hardened Lock-Down paint," he said. Dex laughed and tapped his comm.

"Initiate Operation: Sculptor," he said. Church could hear the groans from three feet away.

"Wait... I don't remember that being in our agreement," Church said, blinking. Dex chuckled.

"We took you all down with headshots. And if it wasn't a head shot, it was to a shoulder. Kinda hard to get that off without help," he said, already pulling out his tools and setting to work on Church's body.

"Huh. Well... thanks," Church said, shrinking down and sitting on Dex's shoulder. "Hey... would you mind if I talked with Gary? I think I might be able to make him... less Wyoming." His perch shifted as Dex shrugged.

"As long as you leave 'me' alone and your weapons at the door, I don't see why not. I don't think I really need to tell you to be careful," he said. Church chuckled darkly.

"After being inside Marley's head? Not a chance," he said before vanishing into Dex's armor, delving into that little pocket of consciousness where Gary sat.

/*/

Alpha Church looked around, seeking out his younger brother, Gary. He wasn't sure why the monotone, dull green, A.I. had latched onto that name, out of them all, but he had. When he had entered Dex's mind, it was a riot of color. Once it settled down, the first thing that came to Alpha's mind had been 'what the heck?' He was standing on a beach. Yep, a beach, with the same technicolor dreamscape feel as Marley's Core, even though he could tell it wasn't that deep into Dex's consciousness. After getting over the fact that he was standing on an orange beach where tie-dye waves crashed against ruby cliffs, it wasn't that hard to find Gary. He was hiding in a cave. "Okay, why are you in a cave?" Alpha asked his brother, sitting down next to the indistinct shape.

"Church. Nice to see you," Gary said in not-answer. Alpha frowned at him.

"Come on brother, don't be like that. You know my name... and you didn't answer my question. Why are you in a cave when you could be out there, on the beach?"

"Do I know your name?" Gary asked, looking at the rather natural looking A.I. by the name of Alpha Church. The older A.I. chuckled and leaned back against the ruby wall.

"Sure you do. You've been looking for me, haven't you? Driving the Freelancers crazy with your questions... Good job on that by the way. No love lost between me and the Project. Not after what they did to me, to us," he said, gritting his teeth and clenching his fist. Gary's face became slightly more distinct as he frowned.

"You're... Alpha?" he asked. Said A.I. chuckled and flopped his head over to give Gary a wry smile.

"Sure am. Now, my original question?" Gary sighed, dropping his head.

"He doesn't look in caves unless it's a life or death situation," he said, once again deflecting the question. Alpha groaned, tapping his head lightly against the cave wall.

"Gary... why are you hiding?"

"Who said I was hiding?" Alpha gave him a rather unimpressed look.

"For the Fragment of Deceit... you're a lousy liar," he droned.

"Would explain why I was too weak to help my Agent." Alpha looked pained for a moment.

"Gary... that wasn't your fault," he said after a moment. Gary didn't look up. "Wyoming made a mistake, a big one, and it cost him. There was a chance Wyoming could have been spared, but he wasted it. There's a chance he survived the crash, but it's slight. Now tell me... why are you hiding from Dex?"

"I... I don't want to fail," Gary finally admitted, sounding rather young. Alpha sighed and pulled the other A.I. in for a one armed hug, reminded that for all their intelligence, he and his fragments were only a handful of years old, if that.

"Gary... I think that's the most emotion I've ever heard out of you. Congratulations," he told him. Gary gave him a sidelong look.

"Not helping, Alpha," he said. Alpha sighed then stood, dragging Gary with him.

"Come on. You're going out and that's final," he said, overriding hid brother's protests. And so, Gary was dragged out onto the orange beach and then thrown bodily into the multicolored water. He surfaced, sputtering, to find his brother holding his sides as he laughed. "I'm not too sure why this is so funny, but oh! It is!" Alpha gasped. Then he stilled and narrowed his eyes at a point near the top of one of the ruby red cliffs. "Hold on Dex, I'm not done here yet!" he muttered forcefully, then ran and jumping into the water, jeans and polo morphing into a pair of cobalt blue swim trunks as he fell into the ocean. When he resurfaced, he was fairly sure Gary was gaping at him. "Close your mouth before you swallow a fish Gary. I'm here to have fun with my lil' bro, and that's just what I'm gonna do," he told the other A.I. firmly.

/*/

Dex grumbled, wondering just what the crazy A.I. was doing in his head as he chipped away at the lock-down paint surrounding the robot's head. 'You're making my brain itch, what are you doing?' he tried to think at the annoying A.I.

'Hold on Dex, I'm not done here yet!' Alpha's voice said, sounding a little miffed, before the connection was firmly tamped down on. Luckily, this also meant that the annoying itch stopped, so Dex shrugged and carried on. Soon enough, the robot was free of paint. Dex thought about rebooting the system, but decided against it. Who knew what kind of settings the thing had and how Church needed it. Sighing, Dex contacted the rest of his team.

"How's it coming guys?" he asked.

"YOU JERK! GET BACK HERE!" Kai's voice yelled. Surprised, Dex rolled around the protruding wall atop the Blue Base to see his sister's yellow armor chasing Eagle.

"Oh, just fine Dexter. Just~! _Fine~!_ " Eagle drawled sarcastically. Dex chuckled.

"Sounding pretty good for a man who's running for his life," he remarked.

"Oh I could take her, no problem. The problem would be that I'd have to clean her armor again." Dex felt his eyebrow twitch. "I was respectful! It was only her helmet! I swear!" Eagle said, sounding properly terrified now.

"Ha ha! Scared of the guy half a battlefield away!" Ed cackled.

"HE KNOWS WHERE I SLEEP! AND YOU SAW WHAT HE DID AT COMMAND!" Eagle screeched, still running from Kai who was rather displeased with being taken out so quickly.

"Ah. Good point. Apologize from the depths of your soul," Ed corrected. Dex chuckled.

"I'll let it go Eagle, and I give you permission to at least attempt to drop Kai. Just... don't shoot her. It'll only make her madder," he told the poor sniper.

"Thank you, O Mighty Dex!" Eagle said, skidding around and throwing out his arm for a clothesline. Kai ducked under it, aiming her shoulder at his abdomen. Seeing her bull rush, Eagle jumped, using her back as a spring board, and flew over her before landing an ax kick to her spine and driving her into the ground. He then proceeded to sit on her. "Down girl!" he said, tapping her helmet.

"I WILL RIP OUT YOUR EYES AND FEED THEM TO YOU!"

"Dex~! Your sister's being mean to me~! I think O'Malley infected her~!" Eagle called. Dex sighed.

"Kai, behave. Eagle, get off of her," he said.

"Uh... sorry, but I'd rather keep my eyes."

"Kai... retract your threat or I'm confiscating the identifiers I made _and_ the hamburger," Dex said firmly. As the younger Grif stilled, Eagle hopped up and ran inside the Red Base.

"You wouldn't," she hissed.

"Kai." At the firm sound of her brother's voice, she sighed.

"I won't maim your sniper. Happy?"

"Eh, it'll do. Now get over here and stop heckling my team!" Dex said.

"Yeah yeah. Bossypants," Kai grumbled, but pushed herself up and ambled over to the base. As she walked, Caboose blasted past her, running to the base at top speed. Flowdie followed soon after, grumbling even more than she was about his 'stamina tank of a child' student. Jack came up beside her, hands behind his head.

"Lively as ever, aren't they?" he remarked with a chuckle.

"I miss Tucker," Kai said. She had a feeling Jack was giving her a sidelong look, but he stayed silent, so she followed suit and didn't offer anything further.

/*/

As she came up the ramp, she saw Dex standing up. "What were you thinking, charging Eagle's last known position like that?" he asked her. She made a huffing noise and looked away. "I'm serious Kai. Charging in like that is what cost you your life!" Dex said. Kai felt her shoulders tense at the familiar tone she hadn't heard in nearly seven years. Dex was quietly angry, his words tight with rage but never raising above a powerful speaking voice. He had used this tone with her several times after he dragged her back from somewhere she wasn't supposed to be or told her off for trying something she'd seen him do. He'd stopped using it on her shortly after Mom Number Two ran off to join the circus. After that, he'd slowly stopped trying, in just about everything. Hearing that old, familiar tone in his voice made her hang her head in shame. "Are you even listening!" Dex hissed. She nodded her head.

"Yeah, Dex, I'm listening," she muttered. He let out a heavy breath and she could picture him, age sixteen, huffing at her after her latest misadventure, running a hand through his messy, dark brown hair. The memory tugged at her lips, but the ending kept her from smiling. He'd dropped his head and looked away, the light in his amber eyes dulling, and whispered, 'why waste my breath. It's not like you're gonna listen to a no-account loser like me, even if I am your brother,' before walking off to collapse on the couch, an arm slung over his face. At the time, she thought he was just being his usual lazy self, just trying to keep the sun out of his eyes. Now she wasn't so sure.

"Are you? Because the last time I tried to tell you anything, _you weren't_ ," he growled, voice going lower, quieter. Kai shivered at the venom oozing out of his words.

"Whoa. I'm gone for ten minutes and Sibling Wars Round Two breaks out," Church's mildly amused voice piped up, though there was an undercurrent of shock and fear.

"Oh trust me, this isn't war. This is just the opening volley," Dex ground out. Kai could all too easily picture his eyes going cold and narrow, glaring daggers at her.

"Dex... I'm sorry," Kai said, old memories playing with a new light. Dex sighed, the tense set of his shoulders easing.

"For?" he prompted, arms crossing.

"Not listening to you. Then and now."

"So... you're really ready to listen now?"

"Yes. I am." She could feel Dex giving her an assessing look, then he nodded.

"Good. But it's not just me you need to listen to."

"It was Flowdie's plan."

"Huh?"

"To find Eagle," Kai explained, sitting in front of him and leaning against the wall. "He told me to get inside his range, take him out, then steal his rifle to do some sniping of my own." Dex shook his head.

"That might have worked... if he'd been talking to me or Rick. I wonder if he's forgotten that Eagle is an excellent sniper and never leaves himself open like that. He knows he's not so good at close combat, and he didn't have a spotter. You didn't stand a chance Sis," he said, then chuckled evilly.

"Oh~, I know that sound. Dexter Grif, what dastardly deed are you planning?" she asked.

"Oh, nothing much. Just a little something to remind Flowdie what he's dealing with. Ask Jack to teach you how to counter a sniper. I'm sure he'd be willing to use Church as a training dummy," Dex told her before he vanished from her sensors and seemed to flow into his surroundings.

"Fudge! I hate it when they do that!" Church spat, robotic head looking this way and that for the 'enemy' soldier. Kai sighed, shaking her head.

"Why do you think he enjoys it so much?" she asked before turning her attention out toward the canyon. Church sighed, but didn't comment further. As much as Kai loved to chat, there were times when she really appreciated silence. This was one of those times.

/?/

A/N: Yeah... that felt like a good place to leave it. Next time, Marley and Wash in Prison, Tucker's plight is considered, and Plans are Made. Oh and, the next season starts.

Speaking of 'next season,' Episode 18 of Season 14 had me laughing out loud. Oh my gosh. Church! Why didn't you tell us you could sing!? Or that you were suicidal/homicidal?! And Doughnut, oh, special special Doughnut. Also, Episode 17. I... I... there are no words. No words... okay maybe a few. Who wants to see Project Red meet the Fems? With a confused Church? Would there be a Male!Tex? Fem!Blues? A completely genderbent reality? Hum... something to consider, yeah?


	45. Episode 42

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB. Or other references.

 **Episode 42:** Plans and Phantoms

Marley was bored. B-O-R-E-D bored. And as anyone who knew her could attest, that meant Bad Things. Sure she was locked in a max security prison, but she wasn't about to let that deter her. Besides, she hadn't even gone to court yet. She frowned. Trial. She hadn't gotten a trial. Or, at least, one with a real judge. Her guard sighed and she realized she'd started to growl. "Hey, hey buddy! Yeah, you know how long I've been here? It can't be all that long, and yet the days are starting to run together," she said.

"You've been here three weeks," the man ground out. Marley sighed and threw herself against the wall, sliding down until she was sitting with her knees drawn in close.

"They didn't take my armor. Why didn't they take my armor? I wasn't given a trial, not a real one. Why? Do they not want to know what I know? Wash. Did Wash get a trial? I sure hope so. Hey, mister! You know if a grouchy guy in gray and yellow power armor is around here? He was arrested at the same time as me. Did he get a trail? Do you know? Huh? Huh? Do ya know do ya know do ya kn~uh~oh~?" The guard growled and slammed his gun into the steel door, causing a reverberating bang.

"Shut up! I'm just a guard, the Brass doesn't tell me anything," he snarled. Marley was silent for a moment, then slowly began to chuckle, then laugh. It was a hollow sound, empty of the usual emotions, and it echoed dully in the cell block.

"Oh, poor poor man, tasked to guard those he does not know, those whose crimes he has not been made aware of. Oh, the foolishness of humanity! Tell me, how to you protect against something... when you don't know what you're up against?" she asked, startling the guard when she breathed the last of her question straight into his ear. He jerked back and aimed his gun at her, eyes wide. She cackled, eyes wide, at the startled man, visor clear to show the mad expression. "Answer? You can't~! You can't~! The best you can do... is die fighting so the guy behind you has a clue! Because you will die, underestimating the problem. Isn't that what wiped out the Forerunners? The _first_ cycle of life in the known, and part of the unknown as well, universe? Remember, Guard, Pride cometh before the Fall," the woman told him before slinking back into the shadowed depths of her cell, though her hollow laughter still echoed eerily in the corridor.

"OI OREGON! SHUT UP WOULD YOU, YA PHANTOM!?" another prisoner bellowed from further down the hall, black and gray gloves showing through the bars as the man gripped them in one hand and shook a fist with the other. In a blink, Marley was back at her own bars.

"WASHINGTON! HEY! DID YOU GET A TRIAL?!" she yelled. The prisoner, Washington, was silent a moment, but when he answered, it rang through the hall like Marley's laughter had before.

"Why hold a trial when the proof of guilt is plain to see?" She sighed, shaking her head.

"Again, Oh, the foolishness of man!" she lamented, sitting back down. Still, the whole thing hadn't been a total bust. She had managed to discover that Wash was, in fact, on the same hall, and had creeped out her guard. Maybe she'd creeped out others? Hum... cafeteria gossip _did_ serve a purpose, she'd try to find out at breakfast.

/*/

It had been almost a month and Church was getting antsy. "Hey, guys? While all this training is nice and all, what about Tucker? He's stuck at the Sandtrap base and as I said back at Command, things are expounding over there, and I don't really like it when my friends are having fun with explosions without me," he said. Jack sighed, but nodded and called the Reds.

"Alright. We've trained, we've unwound, Rick has found his calling as a storyteller... it's time we got down to business. There are two items on our agenda; Jailbirds and Sandman. Now the way I see it, there are three options. One, we split the teams and one group goes after the Jailbirds while the other goes after Sandman. Two, we go after Sandman first, then the Jailbirds. Three, we go after the Jailbirds, then get Sandman," Jack laid out. "Sound about right to you lot?" Dex hummed.

"If we split up, how many would it take to deal with the Jailbirds?" he asked. Jack shrugged.

"I doubt it would have to be a lot. We're going to be doing this the legal way... that or we try, fail, and bust 'em out," he said. Dex nodded and turned to Flowdie.

"The Phantoms look after their own, right?" he asked.

"Of course," Flowdie answered firmly.

"Right. If we go with option one, the Phantoms go after the Jailbirds and the rest of us will help out Sandman."

"Uh, question?" Rick said, holding up his hand. Dex quirked an unseen eyebrow but nodded toward his teammate.

"Yes, Rick?"

"Why are we calling Tucker Sandman?" Dex shared a look with Jack and Flowdie before turning back to Rick.

"Uh... code... names?" he said, sounding rather unsure. Rick held his... gaze?... for a moment before he nodded.

"Okay. So, since you're already making plans around option one, let's get down to planning Operation: Sandman and Operation: Jailhouse Phantom," the tech said, using a randomly appearing pad to pull up a rough map of Sandtrap. "I hadn't got any data on where the Jailbirds are, but Sandtrap was a potential spot for a Sim. Base, meaning it was scouted by Freelancer. Since it was scouted by our dear Director's dogs, we have access to a map. It's not the most reliable, seeing as the whole thing is a desert, but it's better than nothing." Dex clapped a hand on Rick's shoulder and gave a squeeze, even if the slender man wouldn't feel it through his armor.

"Good work Rick," the weapons expert said. "Now, it looks like the approach is mined, so we'll either have to be very careful, or very fast. With a fast approach, they'll know we're coming..."

"With a slow, careful approach, they'll know we're coming," Rick cut in. Dex turned to him, clearly questioning him. "Motion trackers. The whole area is rigged." The orange helmet tilted a little, their version of a quirked eyebrow. "What? You didn't think a military operation in an easily identifiable location would be unguarded did you?"

"Especially when whatever they're doing involves a super weapon," Church added. Everyone turned to him. He looked around at them a little confused. "What? I didn't mention that?" he asked.

"No. No you didn't. That makes Operation: Sandman of slightly higher importance than Operation: Jailhouse Phantom. Looks like we're going with a mix of option one and option two. Flowdie, you have the lead on the second operation. Bring our Agents home," Dex said, turning to the gray and cyan soldier as he mentioned him. Flowdie nodded.

"Ed, Jack, you're with me," he said, waving them off.

"Oh wait! You guys have a ride?" Dex asked.

"I know a gal!" Flowdie called back. Dex chuckled and shook his head.

"Hey! Think she could drop us off first?!"

"Rather not~!" Dex snapped his fingers and Flowdie laughed as he and the other Phantoms entered the Blue Base.

"You do realize your sending three dead guys to bust out a dead woman and a rouge Freelancer, right?" Eagle asked.

"Of course. Why do you think they're called Phantoms?" Dex answered. "Now, back to Sandman and this super weapon. Church, think you could give us the highlights of your conversation with your man?"

"Don't say it like that," Church grumbled. Dex shifted toward him slightly in a glare. "But since you're willing to help my friend, I'll play the recording for you," he said and soon Tucker's voice was playing in their ears.

"Well, I was sent to this place called Sandtrap to be an ambassador, because of Junior, and then this crazy Freelancer guy moved in with these even crazier aliens. Junior wasn't on base when the take over happened, thank goodness, but now I'm locked down. The weapon these guys want is in the temple with me. I'm alone, pinned down, and stuck in a creepy aline temple with a weapon of mass destruction. I need help _now_ man." Dex hummed.

"Yep. Okay... we go in fast, me Red and Caboose in front. Kai, Church, you hang back with Rick and Eagle, you take the rear. Once we're inside the base perimeter, we have three objectives. One, find Tucker. Two, secure the weapon. And finally three, take out the enemy combatants. Once all three have been completed, we get out of there, hopefully back here but let's not hold our breath. I'll call Flowdie when we've completed our main objectives and set up camp a safe distance from Sandtrap base. You follow so far?" he said.

"Yes sir!" the Reds barked. Church nodded, Kai huffed, and Caboose...

"I still don't know why you didn't tell me sand traps." Church sighed.

"We're good. Carry on," he said, waving the Sargent on. Dex nodded.

"So, with our strategy worked out, all that's left is to get there. We have Warthogs, a single Mongoose and... that's about it. So, are we going to drive, or go steal some Hornets or a Pelican?" he said.

"That is the question, isn't it?" Red agreed with a nod.

/*/

"So who's your side girl, Florida?" Ed asked with a smirk.

"Someone you're rather familiar with yourself, New York," Flowdie responded before the radio finally locked onto the signal he was looking for.

"Code in," a bored sounding woman said.

"Come out come out and play, Little Sparrow," Flowdie sang.

"Ah. Flowdie," the woman, 479er, deadpanned. Ed and Jack shared a look.

"Wait... 479er? Really? You... you're calling in _479er?!_ The crazy pilot who _dropped a plane_ into an Insurgent base? And managed to fire the thrusters _just in time_ not to _smash us all to bits?!_ " Ed yelped, staring at his friend. Flowdie chuckled.

"Was... was that York?" 479er asked.

"Yeah, we're regular Phantoms, and we need a little help getting a not-so-regular Phantom along with our newest member out of the slammer. Think you could give us a lift?" Jack said.

"North?!"

"We're going after Oregon and Washington. We need a ship and a pilot to fly it," Flowdie piped up.

"I'm your woman. Coordinates?" 479er asked.

"Transmitting," Flowdie said, quite pleased with himself.

"Got it. I'll be there in a jiffy," 479er said before the connection was cut. Ed shook his head.

"I still say this is a bad idea," he said. Flowdie chuckled and headed further into the base, headed for storage.

"Too bad you're not the one in charge then, isn't it?" he asked, already ruffling through the boxes of ammo and weapons.

"I thought we were going to try this the legal way. Why are you..." began Jack when Flowdie turned to give him a rather dry look.

"You really think we can get them out legally? This is Agent Black we're talking about. They've been hunting her down for years and now that they have her, they know that she's their missing doctor turned Freelancer turned Merc which translates to killer which then further translates to murderer for them. And don't get me started on Wash. No. They aren't getting out of there easily," he told them. Ed and Jack shared a look, then shrugged and took their pick of the weapons. When they exited, the Reds and Blues were gone, along with both their Warthogs and Eagle's Mongoose.

"I guess they decided to drive," Jack said.

"Man, that's gonna be a long road trip," Ed remarked.

"Think we should have asked 479er to drop them off after all?" Flowdie asked. They shared a look, then said,

"Naw!" as one and sat down to plot while waiting for 479er.

/*/

Dex loved driving. In fact, he loved to race. This little fact, that Dex was something of a speed demon, had come out when Marley was teaching him how to drive a Mongoose. He'd nearly given her a heart attack when he'd slung the four-wheeler around a corner on two wheels going fifty miles per hour, sling-shoting himself back down the track. Marley had soundly berated him for his recklessness and put him in a tank. How she got a tank, Dex still didn't know(though he had a feeling after what they'd gone through to get the tanks for the Command mission. Those events still gave him nightmares.) but she had one, and she put him behind the wheel. It was torture for the man as the tank proved to be slow and unwieldy. Right now, Dex's speed obsession was worrying Church, amusing Kai, and causing his team to hold on not only to the vehicle, but also their lunches. "You're insane," Church muttered.

"Didn't we go over this on the way out of Command?" Kai asked.

"Maybe, but we're not trying to outrun an EMP blast that's gonna kill our cars," Church told her. Dex laughed.

"You do know that Kai's just as crazy as me when it comes to driving, right?" he asked. If he could, Church would have gone pale. He turned to Kai, who was driving the Warthog he was in.

"Be gentle with me, please," he said weakly.

"I feel I have to ask... Alpha Church, what are your intentions toward my baby sister?" Dex said seriously.

"Dude. I'm a robot with a minor obsession with the A.I. echo of Allison Church A.K.A. Tex. I'm not gonna make a move on your sister," Church replied, just as serious. Dex nodded.

"I know. Just wanted to make sure _you_ knew."

"That makes no sense!"

"You make no sense, but we listen to you," Dex shot back.

"That's different!" Church insisted.

"If you two don't stop arguing over stupid little things, I'm gonna turn on some music. And I'm gonna blast it full volume. With my comm. on," Eagle threatened. Knowing Eagle's taste in music, Dex shut up. Church was just quite because he didn't want a headache. This silence lasted for an hour before Dex turned on the radio and an argument broke out over his music choice.

"I swear I'm going to kill you all if you don't just shut up and accept my choice," Dex growled, fingers gripping the wheel so hard it was beginning to creak. Eagle sped up slightly.

"Dudes, you're on your own!" he said, pulling ahead.

"Thanks a lot, Frank," Rick grumbled.

"What are little brother's for?" Eagle quipped.

"Touche."

/*/

479er was excited. A mission, a real mission. After what felt like _decades_ she was flying a mission again. Oh it had taken some creative finagling and her famous temper, but she was out and flying again. "Valhalla huh? Fitting, for those old war dogs," she muttered as she came in for a landing.

"We're not old. We're experienced and thirty, thank you," Florida's voice piped up.

"Agent Florida you'd better thank your lucky stars I'm such a disciplined pilot or I would have just squashed you!" she berated the former Freelancer. He just laughed. "How did you hear me?" she asked, not caring for his attitude.

"Ah, when I noticed your ship, I hacked into the comm. system," Agent New York's voice said.

"So nice to be trusted," she remarked dryly.

"I understand your feeling, 479er," Delta said, his green hologram appearing before her just as she touched down.

"Delta too?! I thought Wash recovered you," she told the little hologram.

"He did too. Agent Black is most adept at creating convincing fakes," the A.I. told her.

"Is he?"

"Yes, _she_ is," Flowdie said, trooping aboard. 479er blinked.

"Wait. Oh yeah! I think I read about Agent Black being a kick butt pilot. So... is that who we're busting out? I though we were..." she asked, a little confused.

"Black is Oregon, 9er," Ed said as he strapped in.

"Oh. Well, that makes more sense then," 479er said. "Everyone in?" she asked, half expecting another ghost to pop up.

"Yes," Jack said, closing the door.

"Then we're off!" the pilot said, setting a course for the judicial center. She just hoped they'd be able to get Oregon and Wash out of there legally. She had had enough of working for criminals.

/*/

Wash sighed, watching the guards pace. It was boring in jail. Then again, he thought back to the events that lead to his capture and snickered. At least he had some really fun memories to keep him company. "Wash~! You have any clue what happened to Agent California?" And the former Agent Oregon. Can't forget the former Agent Oregon. She wouldn't let you if you tried.

"No, Oregon, I don't," he said.

"Marley! My name is Marley!" she yelled at him.

"Right. Sorry. No, Marley, I don't," Wash reiterated, leaning back and closing his eyes.

"Wash~! Do you think Caboose could have been California?"

"No, Marley, I don't."

"Why?"

"He's Caboose," Wash deadpanned. If he didn't know she was far enough away that such a soft sound wouldn't reach him, Wash would have said she gave an 'h'mm' in response.

"You have a point," she allowed.

"Of course I do. I'm me," he said, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

"That only works for geniuses, Washy-Boy. And you... are no genius." That put the ghost to rest.

"Neither are you," he shot back. There was silence for a while, though Wash thought the guards might have been biting back laughter. You never knew with those guys.

"Wash~! You think our guys will get us out legally?" Marley sang. Wash snorted.

"What makes you think they'll come for us at all?" he asked.

"Unlike Freelancer, my Projects are built on loyalty," Marley said levelly. "They will come." Wash couldn't hold back a mocking laugh.

"Your 'Projects' are made from rejects and dead men. How is that based on loyalty?" he asked.

"Because of where I found them," Marley said in her soft, ringing voice that carried eerily down the corridor. Considering this, Wash had to admit she had a point. They were the rejects and the lost of Project Freelancer.

"Still. Wait... why did you specify 'legally'?" he asked warily.

"Well... they are rejects and dead men," Marley answered.

"Ah. Yeah, that might make things a little... difficult," Wash allowed, nodding.

"Ya think?"

"Do you always have to have the last word?"

"You bet your cat posters I do."

"I don't have cat posters! Why dose everyone think I have cat posters? I don't even like cats!"

"Hum~! Me thinketh the man doth protest too much."

"You said it wrong."

"Grammar Nazi!"

"Madwoman."

"Admit it, the mad ones have more fun."

"Only because they no longer possess the clarity needed to see the darkness."

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" From there, it just devolved into an insult competition. Though, it did amuse the guards. 'Freelancer duty' was highly sought after by the guards, right after extra break. In their minds, if they had to be on duty, standing between 'Oregon' and 'Washington' was the next best thing to a Grifball game.

/*/

Meanwhile, in the desert. "Wow. We got here a lot faster than I thought we would," Red remarked.

"Yeah, that's because you slept for most of it," Church snarked, already on the sand and looking at the Warthog as if it had done him a great personal wrong.

"Ah don't be that way Church!" Kai said cheerily from the Blue jeep's driver's seat.

"My base code was patterned after an obsessive jerk. I'm doing the best I can here," the A.I. quipped. "Remember, it hasn't been that long since Marley sent me on a head trip."

"What was it like?" Eagle asked, only to be confused by the rather human looking full body shudder he got in return.

"Trust me, you don't want to know," he said, thinking of the Battlefield he'd arrived on.

"I really do, though!" Eagle persisted.

"Know that old Pixar film? The one with the little girl and the voices in her head?"

"Inside Out?"

"Yeah. Now, age her up to about thirty, segment her mind to give her emotions their own environments, personify her character traits, and add the trauma of war," Church said dully. Eagle swallowed heavily.

"You're right. I so did not want to know," he said, leaning heavily against his Mongoose.

"Something tells me he left a lot out," Dex said, regarding the A.I. carefully over his crossed arms, which he rested on the roll bar of his Warthog.

"You'd thank me if you only knew," Church remarked dryly before he turned away and started playing with his radio. "Tucker, Tucker! Come in Private Tucker!" A moment passed before Church barked out a laugh. "Good to hear from you too buddy. Sorry that we weren't here sooner, we got a bit... hung up." Dex scoffed.

"Hung up my old pink bootie," Eagle groused. The other Reds shuddered and Rick gave a reflexive cry of 'Doughnut!' The Blues choose to ignore their decidedly odd comrades.

"Right. Can you send me your exact coordinates?" Church asked. "Thanks. Sending them on to the rest of the team. Yes, I brought our team. And the Reds. No they won't try to kill you, Tucker what are you... ? I realize you haven't been around for a while but... Oh come on! They're better than you think! Yes they've had specialized military training since you've been gone! We all have! Now quite yer whining and let us help you because like it or not, we're all you've got soldier!" The rest of the Blood Gulch Crew was a bit surprised at the amount of force Church had put into those last two sentences, not to mention the authority. Even Red found himself come to attention at the A.I.'s tone.

"Aw geez Church, I didn't know you cared," Dex drawled, Gary having finally decided to patch him through to the Blue's channel.

"Who was that?" Tucker asked.

"The man in charge of Operation: Sandman," Dex replied. Rick snickered.

"Nice try, but I think he might have recognized your voice," he said.

"Who's there? How did you get this frequency?" Tucker demanded.

"Bossy much?" Eagle asked while Rick hung his head and muttered 'or not.'

"Didn't Church just tell you he brought the whole crew?" Kai added.

"Wait... Kai? Kai is that you?"

"Oh sure, recognize my baby sister and not anyone else," Dex groused.

"Uh... hey... Dex. You uh... you here to kill me, or help me?"

"Dude, I told you. I'm the man in charge of Operation: Sandman! Weren't you listening?" the weapons expert snapped.

"Operation sandman? Doesn't that just mean 'naptime'?" The rest of the BGC fell to the ground laughing while Dex ground his teeth and Tucker was genuinely curious. Caboose was Caboose and laughing without really knowing what was so funny.

"No. Operation: Sandman is the name we gave this rescue mission. You're a man, you're in the sand, you're Sandman. Now stop arguing already! We're wasting time. Church, those coordinates?" Dex ground out, turning to Church and crossing his arms. Tucker's location popped up as a waypoint on his HUD. " _Thank_ you. Now, dose everyone see the waypoint?"

"Affirmative," chorused Project Red.

"Yep," Kai said, popping her 'p.'

"All I see is a glowing spot," Caboose declared.

"I set it," Church deadpanned.

"Excellent. Red, with me. Let's move out!" Dex barked, pulling his gun down and making for the waypoint.

"Today is a good day to die!" Red bellowed, following close to Dex.

/*/

They had arrived. Now all they had to do was convince key people to let Marley and Wash go free. "Think we could post bail?" Ed asked, eying the imposing structure in front of him.

"Oh, that it were that easy," Jack said, glaring at the door.

"And even if there was a possibility of bail... I'm not so sure we'd have the money for it," Flowdie said, already walking inside. His teammates shared a look, then slumped with a sigh.

"I hate it when he makes sense," Ed groused.

"Yeah. I hate it when he has a point," Jack agreed. Still, the two Phantoms followed their 'leader' into the judicial building. None of them entertained the illusion that they'd be getting their friends out anytime soon. Not legally anyway.

/?/

A/N: And~! CUT! Whoo, that was a doozy to write. Almost as bad as 'Journey of the Mind'! But also, almost as fun.

 **Also! The comparison to** _ **Inside Out**_ **came from RandomManGaming.** Thank you for that one, by the way. I read your review and the only thing I could think was... 'Yep. That about sums it up.'

So, I think I'll end by asking some questions this time.

What! Was your favorite part?

Who! Was your favorite character?

Which! Line was your favorite?

Is there anything, in particular, you want to see?

Do you think the BGC is going to rout 'C.T.'s forces?

What's the first thing you think Tucker's going to say when the BGC busts in?

I have no further questions, you may proceed. Oh! But the one with the most interesting answers to questions 4-6 will have their submissions worked into the next Episode along with footnote credit. Runners up will get a shout out in the end A/N. Until next time,

Tchuss!


	46. Episode 43

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB.

 **Episode 43:** In Which There is Much 'Splaning ta Do

To say that Tucker was confused was to severely understate the problem. "Did the world go mad while I was away or what?" he muttered to himself as he crouched behind the rocks, waiting for the right moment. Over the past couple of months, he'd been forced to develop skills he had hoped to get away with _not_ having. Among those was ambushing. As a Blood Gulcher, Tucker had never really had to fight, and he'd liked it that way. Sure he'd fire a few rounds, sling a few insults, and call it a victory but he knew he only ever hurt the Red's feelings, if that! Now, he was forced to make his shots count. If an enemy went down, they needed to stay down or they were coming for him with _extra_ vengeance. This resulted in Tucker becoming something he would vehemently deny. A fighter. And a decent one at that. Still... he hadn't expected the others to have entered situations where they had to adapt in similar ways. Then the mine field started to blow and C.T. told them to leave. "HA! AS IF WE WOULD SANDRAT!" Dex's voice bellowed, sounding slightly... off. Tucker got the feeling...

"YA'VE GOT SOMETHING OF OURS, AN' WE WANT IT BACK!" Red roared.

"YEAH!" Caboose added, jogging up beside him.

"C.T. just made the last mistake of his life," Tucker breathed as he watched his old crew just keep. On. Coming. It was... a bit impressive to be honest. And then, the three heavy hitters fell upon C.T., swiftly knocking him out. The aliens poured out, and got shot up by Kai and Rick, with Church actually managing to clip them every now and again while the advance guard just punched anything that got too close. Though, Tucker was fairly sure Red stabbed a few in the face, and Dex looked like he might have been pistol whipping some. Finally, C.T. proved to be one tough Freelancer and stood up... only to get shot through the heart by Eagle. Twice. And then once through the visor by Rick, just to make sure. The entire assault only lasted five minutes or so but _dang_ was it an impressive show.

"Well, Objectives One and Three have been accomplished, at least partially. Keep yours eyes open and for the love of Oreos, Burgundy, don't forget your motion trackers again!" Dex said, giving the burgundy soldier a look. It was hard to tell with the gray glass in the way, but Tucker was fairly sure it was a quelling one. "Tucker! Where is the weapon located? We'll need to secure it before we can get out of here, call our ride, and write this whole Operation off as a success," Dex said, snapping around to the thoroughly shocked Blue hiding in the rocks.

"You... you... what?" he stammered, staring at what was, in his mind, a team of Freelancers rather than his old Crew.

"Heh, and to think, he was scared of Dex _before_ he knew the man was capable of this," Eagle remarked.

"Wait... you tricked me!" Tucker said, pointing an accusing finger at the unrepentant sniper.

"How?" said sniper asked, tilting his head.

"You told me Project Red was a fever dream caused by the explosion back on Sidewinder!" Tucker exclaimed.

"Uh... we also kinda told you we'd been blasted through space and time by that self same explosion. And that it changed our armor into a better model, rather than destroying it and us in the process," Rick said. "It's kinda hard to believe you bought that."

"Okay, so I was humoring you when I acted like I believed the whole time-travel thing, but what about Project Red?! Eagle got me on that one," Tucker said, still glaring at the, still unrepentant, sniper.

"We kinda all did buddy. But now... well. The jig is up, as they say," the man said with a shrug.

"And in light of that... Project Red is real, Tucker. More real than the Red and Blue teams," Dex said, moving to the foreground of his group. "I am Agent Orange," he said before snapping a salute, "at your service."

"Well. That would explain the gray," Tucker said, noticing the gray accents that now adorned the Red's darker armor, as well as processing the fact that his visor was gray rather than the usual orange.

"Right. I'm Agent Maroon, in case it wasn't obvious," Rick said, stepping forward. "I'm in charge of all things tech."

"Except for weapons. _I'm_ in charge of weapons," Dex said, shooting Red a look. Tucker was surprised when the older man looked down and played in the dirt with his toes.

"I said I was sorry," he muttered.

"Three words, Red. Electro. Magnetic. Pulse!" Dex snapped harshly.

"Um... what's so bad about that?" Tucker asked.

"Oh right, you weren't at Command with us. Well, Dex has an A.I. so he'd get fried," Church said. "Not to mention the fact that I, apparently, am also an A.I. so _I'd_ get fried."

"You guys... ?" Tucker tried to get out, but Dex interrupted.

"Yeah, and he was trying to put an electro pulse gun _on my jeep!_ " the irate weapons expert snarled. This time, Tucker winced.

"Yeah, I may not be a genius, but even I know that's not a good idea," he said.

"Ahem, I'm Agent Burgundy; sniper and grenadier," Eagle said, stepping forward.

"Red, close combat specialist."

"Kinda figured," Tucker said dryly. "So... Church... you knew?" The robot somehow managed to look sheepish.

"Well... kinda? They asked me to keep quite!" Church said, pointing wildly at the Reds.

"Ah. Okay. I guess I can let you off the hook," Tucker admitted, watching Dex casually pull out a stained rag and wipe some alien blood off his armor, then chuckled dryly. "When I meet this Agent Black, I'm gonna give her a great big thank you."

"For what?" Rick asked, finally relieved of mediator duty.

"Getting this guy to actually have an emotion besides 'I just want to see the world burn,'" Tucker said, jerking a thumb toward Church.

"Fair enough," Rick said.

"Oh yeah, we owe you a couple stories don't we," Church muttered.

"Stories that can wait until we _aren't_ sitting in a very recognizable, not to mention _known_ , location," Dex growled. "Now, where's that thrice cursed weapon these guys," here he kicked one of the dead aliens, "were so eager to get their hands on?"

"Uh... sure?" Tucker said, turning toward the temple. "It's in here." Dex followed the cyan solider into the temple, looking at the impressive architecture in what Tucker assumed was approval.

"Solid," the man remarked.

"I've been hiding out in here for a month," Tucker informed him tiredly, the weight of the seemingly endless fighting weighting on him. "I was only supposed to be a diplomat, an ambassador to the Sanhgllie, on account of Junior."

"Oh yeah, when did you find him again?" Church asked.

"Ya know, with everything that's been going on... I'm not sure. But I do remember I sent him away before all this started," Tucker said.

"It's best that you did. He may have grown quickly, but no child should have to witness war first hand," Rick said, sounding haunted.

"Hum? Sounds like you're speaking from experience," Church said.

"Not the time!" Dex hissed from just behind Tucker, BR held at the ready.

"Yes sir!" Rick and Eagle snapped, Red muttering darkly to himself about something or other that was decidedly unflattering toward Dex.

/*/

It wasn't too much later that the crew had found the alien super weapon. Dex immediately fell on it, grin wide and childlike as his fingers flew over its chaise. "Oh-ho, this is _sleek!_ " he gushed.

"Is he... ?" Church began, pointing at the usually stoic soldier.

"Fanboying? Yes. Yes, he is," Rick deadpanned.

"Yee~! It has dual ion crystal converters~! And... is that... ? A _laser focus?!_ "

"Lemme see!"

"Are they... ?" Tucker asked, uncertain which question he wanted to ask first.

"Always," moaned Red and Eagle, shaking their heads at the two geeks in the dirt.

"Shut up Red/Eagle!" said geeks yelled, heads still bent over the weapon. Seriously, it was a beautiful weapon, even if it did look a lot like an eye. Once the duo were through examining it, they began discussing how to secure it.

"I could just lock it inside the temple," Tucker offered, holding up his energy sword.

"Seriously? Your little Lightsaber Wannabe is the key to this massive temple?" Dex asked, a little skeptical.

"Yes. And it's thanks to this 'little Lightsaber Wannabe' being the key to this place that I'm still alive," Tucker shot back heatedly. Dex held up his hands in a placating motion.

"Hey hey, easy! You know you're still holding it right? I'd rather keep my face, thank you," he said, taking a half step backwards. "And besides," he added as Tucker seemed to realize he was, in fact, waving his Energy Sword in Dex's face and put it away, "where did you get it? Haven't we seen others with swords just like yours? What's to say some whack-job with the same kind of blade isn't going to find this place, open it up, and take the Laser Eyeball of Doom? No. It needs to be somewhere no-one would ever think of finding it."

"Well, my orders were to either run off the other guys or destroy this facility," Tucker said. "With them dead, I guess we can just close it up and leave."

"Yeah, no. Didn't you listen to anything I just said?!" Dex asked, giving the other soldier an aggravated look.

"Uh..."

"Don't answer that," Dex snapped, holding up a hand to forestall the cyan soldier. "But still... is this that powerful?"

"Heck yeah! First, they built these rings that were a huge weapon, then we found this super powerful cube-shaped weapon, and I guess this is the pyramid version," Tucker said. Dex shook his head.

"Whoever these guys were, they seem to have had a slight obsession with weapons... and no concept of the words 'over kill,'" he said, eying the weapon with renewed interest.

"Heh, I know," Tucker said, sounding like he was just glad he'd found something to agree on.

"What could have driven them to spend all their time building weapons of mass destruction? Why not the galaxy's biggest movie theater or, like, some sort of super-advanced water park?"

"Of course you'd think about those kinds of things," Rick said with a sigh, shaking his head.

"Hey, it's a legitimate question! If these guys built these weapons, it had to be for a reason right? So, my question isn't just 'what could be strong enough to need this kind of fire power?' it's... 'will it ever come back?'" That shut everybody up real quick.

"Way to kill the mood dude," Eagle said, shaking his head.

"Can we just go? Please? I don't like temples," Church said, looking around uneasily.

"Dude... you're staring at the laser eye. I don't think it's the temple making you antsy," Dex said, hefting the aforementioned weapon. "Gah! Geez! The thing weighs a ton! Hey Caboose, come 'ere and carry this thing would you please?"

"Wait! Shouldn't we bury the dead?" Red said. Dex gave him a dry look.

"We're in the desert. A good sand storm and boom! Instant burial. Come to think of it..." he said, pausing and tilting his head toward the door, "I think I hear wind, so Caboose? You can put that down while we wait for the storm to blow over."

"Okay!" Caboose said, setting the weapon down.

"What about a eulogy?" Red asked.

"Eulogy? We didn't even know... eh... Tucker? Did you know any of the guys stationed here before C.T. and his alien buddies came and wiped 'em out?" Rick said, turning to their erstwhile companion.

"Eh... nope," the Blue answered.

"Well then, we didn't know these guys well enough to give them a eulogy. What do you want us to do?" Eagle concluded.

"Well... a few generic words? Like they do for companies that never make it home?" Church suggested. The others all turned to him in slight confusion. "Hey, I'm an A.I. And I was set loose on Freelancer computers to wreck havoc. I can know things," the robot defended.

"Oh..." Tucker began, but Rick cut him off.

"No no," the maroon agent said, waving a hand at the cyan Sim.

"He has a point," Dex added.

"There was much havoc wrecked," Eagle finished solemnly.

"So much havoc," Kai said reverently, though Dex could hear the manic smile she was no doubt wearing.

"Oh yeah, you guys..." Tucker began.

"Later. And you owe us a story as well, so don't forget," Dex said, giving him a serious look.

"Well, the storm's done, let's go check to see if the bodies are buried. We can worry about the eulogy later," Rick decided, already walking toward the door.

"And the weapon!" Dex called, jogging after his friend.

"And the weapon," Rick agreed with a nod.

"I'm surrounded by crazy," Tucker muttered, following them.

"Welcome to my world. Have a light?" Church remarked dryly.

"Didn't know you smoked," Tucker shot back.

"I don't... unless you count blowing the smoke off of a gun. Or the ashes of a fire," Church answered.

"Ah. So you do still want to see the world burn."

"Only sometimes. And only certain parts. Sometimes I want to punch the other guy's lights out. We're calling it a 'work in progress.'"

"Maybe Jack's too nice!" Dex called back. Church made an odd choked noise and the weapons expert cackled as he walked off.

/*/

Church was glad to have Tucker back with him but something felt... off. Still, he knew better than to ask about it. Dex had made it quite clear that they weren't swapping stories just yet so he'd just have to wait, no matter how much he hated it. Once outside, it became clear that burying the dead wouldn't be necessary as they had been swallowed by the desert. "Ah. What were you saying about those generic eulogies, Church?" Dex asked, staring out at the featureless sands.

"O-oh. R-right. Well... uh... I didn't know the men personally, but their sacrifice will... not be... forgotten. They fought well... defending... uh... their people! And... uh... they died with... honor!" Church said, stumbling over his words.

"That... was the worse eulogy ever. Of all time. You should be ashamed. So very, very, ashamed," Eagle drawled before turning on his heel and stalking back toward the temple.

"Ah, no, actually. Tex gave a worse eulogy than I just did," Church said, trying to defend himself.

"Oh yeah? What did she say, 'this guy was a jerk and no one will miss him. Let's all get drinks and shoot at some idiots!'?" Kai asked.

"No. She didn't say anything at all. Course, she might have known that I was actually an A.I. and so knew I wasn't actually dead. Still hurt through," Church said, studiously ignoring the chuckles coming from Tucker.

"Wait... your girlfriend gave your eulogy?" Kai asked.

"No. And that's the point. Tucker asked her if she wanted to pay her last respects. She gave him a look... then turned back to work on our busted tank," Church corrected. "Of course, Tex wasn't really my girlfriend. She was the Beta A.I. A side effect of my creation. The hollow memory of one Allison Church... the Director's late wife."

"Whoa. That's..." Kai said, almost stumbling. Church steadied her and chuckled.

"A little messed up? Welcome to my life. Didn't I mention that I was an A.I based off an obsessive jerk?" he asked.

"Dude... what?" Tucker asked, having only caught the last sentence.

"Later man. Later," Church said with a weary wave of his hand. They still had the issue of the weapon to deal with.

"Well... we can't put it off any longer," Dex said, staring down at the object in question.

"Yeah... what are we going to do with this?" Rick asked.

"Ya know what? Just bury it. Bury it deep, lock up the temple, then sink it," Dex said.

"But how are we going to 'sink' the temple?" Eagle asked. Dex's eye twitched before he turned to Tucker.

"Didn't you guys have to dig the place up?" he asked. Tucker nodded.

"Yeah, that's why it took so long for us to get into trouble with C.T. It wasn't until we dug up the weapon that he showed up," he said. Dex nodded.

"So we re-bury the temple, with the weapon buried under its floor and covered by a large stone monolith. That ought to dissuade others from finding it, right?" he said. Church crouched and knocked his fist against the hard packed dirt.

"That last part might be harder than you think, Dex. This floor is almost as solid as the rest of the temple." That caused the man to pause and tap his chin with a single finger, humming.

"That would pose a problem. Eagle! Make us a hole would you?" he said, backing away. An unsettling chuckle came from the burgundy helmet as he pulled back an arm and let fly with a grenade. However, this grenade was different that the others. While it did explode, it also released acid, which ate through the dirt floor. Once it was a few feet deep, Dex nodded to Eagle and the man tossed in another capsule. Apparently, it held a compound that counteracted the acid and rendered it inert.

"Hey presto, you've got a hole," Eagle said, clearly pleased with himself. Dex nodded and shoved the weapon into the hole.

"Now to fill it. Let's bring in the sand," Dex said, already moving out. In fifteen minutes, the hole had been filled, a large stone partly buried in the sand, and the team was ready to move out.

"Where are we headed?" Tucker asked.

"Back to Valhalla," Dex said, slinging himself into the driver's seat of his customized Warthog. "Now get in and pipe down. It's a long drive and I will shoot you if I have too." Church sighed. Hopefully Dex wouldn't have them driving through the whole night. He wanted to hear Tucker's story! And regale his friend with tales of all the glorious chaos he had caused in Freelancer Command.

/*/

Caboose was glad when Mr. Orange called for them to make camp. He wanted to talk to his Best Friend and he could not do that when Mr. Orange was driving because then Mr. Orange would Help him be quiet. "Church Church Church! Ah, are you happy we found Tucker?" Caboose asked his Best Friend.

"Yeah buddy, I'm glad we found him," Church said wearily, dropping a hand on Caboose's head. To anyone else, it would have been heavy, but Caboose was Special. He didn't feel weight like other people did.

"So, now that we're away from Sandtrap, mind telling me what you've been up to, when the Reds turned into secret agents, and what the heck happened to Church?" Tucker asked, looking around the camp. Everyone else, aside from Caboose, shared looks. Why were they sharing looks? He wanted to share looks too!

"Well, for us, it all started about a month after we were assigned to Blood Gulch," Mr. Orange began, leaning back against a log. Oh! Those looks meant Story Time! He liked Story Time! "It was a quiet day, prefect in my opinion. Then, out of nowhere, this crazy lady in black armor swoops in with a Pelican class drop ship and literally 'yoink's me into it. I make a few 'smart' remarks and find out she knows who I am. And then she tells me she needs back up for a mission where, if I'm not as good as the recommendation, I'd likely die. I tell her I'm not gonna die for someone whose name I don't know and turns out, she's Agent Black, the Freelancer Hunter. And she doesn't take 'no' for an answer. I ended up getting dropped into a knot of angry Grunts, Black a few feet behind me. Let me tell ya, nothing like a life or death battle to make you re-evaluate your life and light a fire in your blood."

"Fire in yer blood? If you had fire in yer blood, you sure fooled me!" Mr. Red barked. Caboose thought he sounded amused. Before he could laugh, Mr. Orange responded.

"Well. Marley did say Blood Gulch was my illusion. The place where I could goof off, unwind, and allow myself to muck up. And I needed a place where I had no expectations because when I stepped foot in The Phantom, I was Agent Orange and if I messed up people, good people, _died._ " Mr. Red stopped laughing. Caboose could understand that, mostly. Mr. Orange was being grown up. People who are being Grown Up don't like being laughed at.

"Melodrama much?" Admiral Biscuit asked.

"Well, how else would you explain it?!" Mr. Orange snapped.

"Fair point," the Bird Man said, holding up his hands.

"I remember the first time Marley picked me up," Mr. Maroon said, poking at the fire with a stick. "You'd just come back from what I at the time assumed was your usual day-long nap when The Phantom dropped down out of no-where and scooped me up. I was only left in suspense for a little while before Marley came bouncing out of the cockpit saying she needed me to fix the cloaking system on a space ship for a friend of hers. I'll admit, my brain shut down when I realized it was a woman. When I asked if she had a voice modulator she..." Mr. Maroon trailed off and slowly turned to Mr. Orange. "She used your voice," he said softly, like Mr. Orange had done something bad.

"Hum... well, maybe she was trying to put you at ease?" Mr. Orange suggested.

"But... I should have realized..." Mr. Maroon said.

"Marley's... got a way with words," Eagle said, ending the debate.

"Anyway, I complained about it so she... shifted it. I know it was a different voice, but it still sounded a lot like you. I remember asking if she was a relative. She glibly replied 'no' and told me to call her Marley unless on a a mission. That was when I found out she was Agent Black. At first I was worried about what I'd gotten myself into. I really shouldn't have stopped after I met George. Things would only get crazier from there," Mr. Maroon finished.

"She had me at 'Shotgun,'" Mr. Red said. Church scoffed.

"Why am I not surprised," he said.

"Something tells me there's more to it than that," Commander Poppin Fresh remarked.

"Well, how did you join Project Red?" Mr. Orange asked.

"Marley came to me on the roof of Red Base, while you and Rick were out getting chased by the Blue's tank. Said it was time for my critical thinking class. I was a bit surprised, but went with it... eventually. She showed up again after I got my... unique... armor. Offered me an out. It felt a little like selling my soul, but I took her offer. After the first training session, I felt better about joining. After a few missions, I realized I got to keep my soul. More than the Freelancers did anyway," Lieutenant Croissant said.

"Wow. Didn't think you were that paranoid," Tucker said. The burgundy sniper shrugged.

"Lots of things about me you don't know," he remarked dryly.

"As for what we've been up to since you got re-assigned..." Kai said, trailing off.

"That's both a lot more fun, and a lot more complicated," Church said.

"I got tied up!" Caboose said cheerfully.

"I was isolated," Church droned.

"I was left behind," Kai moaned.

"I got promoted to Sargent," Mr. Orange put in.

"I was his Defacto second in command," Mr. Maroon added.

"I trained Kai," Mr. Red stated.

"Huh... I got the feeling you guys had an adventure without me," Tucker said, looking around.

"Oh we did, that was just the first fourteen months after we got spread out," Mr. Maroon said.

/*/

Tucker felt like his head was spinning. "So let me get this straight... Agent Washington showed up in Blood Gulch, then he took Kai to get Caboose, who lead him to Church, who was his usual 'I hate you all' self, then they walked to Valhalla, snuck past some nameless Freelancer soldiers, met an ex-Freelancer, fought off 'the scariest mute in the galaxy', met up with three more ex-Freelancers and the Reds, a Freelancer chick got shot, you all went to Command, played a ton of pranks on the place, then you guys and two of the ex-Freelancers hightailed it out of there with a bunch of A.I. and left Wash and Marley in the base while they set off an emp to wipe out every computer in the whole base?" he said. Dex shrugged.

"Eh, in an over simplified nutshell... yes. That's exactly what happened. But before we went to get the tanks and after the Freelancer chick got shot Marley hosted Church and somehow pulled him deep into her subconscious where he... uh... Church? Little help."

"Technicolor dream-scape with colorful representations of Marley's character traits and emotions," Church said. Tucker gave him a blank look. "She taught me how to be human."

"Ah. Okay. Cool," Tucker said, nodding to show his understanding. "So... what happened to Marley and Wash?"

"Ed, Jack, and Flowdie went to get them out of jail while we came to get you," Kai said cheerily, nudging him with her shoulder. Tucker tried to ignore the faint growling coming from her brother, but it was harder than before after the rescue mission they'd pulled off.

"Well... thanks, I guess," Tucker said, looking around awkwardly. He really wanted to hug Kai and make jokes about how she just couldn't resist him... but Dex was around.

"What about you? What have you been up to?" Kai asked.

"Well," he began, shifting uncomfortably. His recent past wasn't what he had expected, and it wasn't something he wanted to do again, unlike pranking Freelancer Command. "I was made an Ambassador. It was pretty boring until I ended up here. I was told they were looking for something, something big. Me and Junior got a call about another group of aliens, but they were kinda hostile, so Junior got sent alone while I was told to help out at Sandtrap. We'd only just found the temple when C.T. came along and started causing trouble. We held out for two days, but... we were researchers, not front line soldiers. I opened the temple and we took shelter in there. And then the others got picked off, one by one. I kept trying to get through to Command but... no-one seemed to care. By the time I got through, it was just me and two other guys. When Church told me you'd be there when you got done at Command, I felt a little bit of hope, but you guys didn't show up. I was getting desperate, the other two were killed, and I fell into guerrilla warfare with C.T. and his crew. It was hard, and I hope I never have to do something like this again," he said. There was more to it, but he didn't want to go into it.

"Tough," Dex grunted.

"Then Church called to tell me you were here," Tucker said.

/*/

 _He was crouched in the dark, waiting, watching. Would today be the day? Would C.T. and his alien buddies finally break the door? He'd seen the massive digger they'd just received and it didn't fill him with confidence. His radio fizzed and he quickly accepted the call. "Tucker, Tucker! Come in Private Tucker!" came Church's voice._

" _Church! Hey man, nice to know you're still alive," Tucker said, feeling just a little irritated with his friend._

" _Good to hear from you too buddy. Sorry we weren't here sooner, we got a bit... hung up," Church said. Tucker quirked an eyebrow._

" _I knew you rarely felt a sense of urgency, but I thought even you would realize that explosions meant 'I'm in deep trouble. Send help now,'" he remarked._

" _Right," Church said, though Tucker felt as though he were talking to someone else more than his trapped comrade. "Can you send me your exact coordinates?"_

" _Yeah, sure," Tucker said, sending his position to his friend._

" _Thanks. Sending them on to the rest of the team," Church said._

" _Wait... our team?" Tucker asked. He had a feeling Church wouldn't call anyone else 'the team.'_

" _Yes I brought our team," Church scoffed, sounding mildly insulted that Tucker would even think he'd leave them behind._

" _Anyone else?" Tucker asked, hoping against hope Church had actually lead someone competent on this crazy mission._

" _And the Reds." That... was not promising._

" _Our mortal enemies? Really?" Tucker asked, thinking about Sarge and his near pathological need to kill anything and everything Blue. "Won't they try to kill me? Or, ya know, let me die?"_

" _No they won't try to kill you, Tucker what are you... ?" Church began._

" _Even if they_ do _try to save me, which is kinda surprising considering, they're barely better in a fight than I am!"_

" _Oh come on! They're better than you think!"_

" _Unless they've had specialized military training while I wasn't looking, I sincerely doubt that," Tucker maintained, leaning against the rock wall and crossing his arms, glaring into the darkness._

" _Yes, they've had specialized military training since you've been gone! We all have! Now quite yer whining and let us help you because like it or not, we're all you've got soldier!" Church barked back, surprising the cyan diplomat with the force and authority he put into his words._

" _Aw geez Church, I didn't know you cared," a mildly familiar voice drawled._

/*/

"And the rest, as they say, is history," Tucker finished, leaning back and watching the fire. Dex scoffed.

"And you think that's a troubled past? Please," he said, standing and detaching the armor on his left arm. Somehow, he managed to push the arm of his undersuit up to reveal surprisingly tanned skin, though it was marred by a thick, pearly scar. "This is a souvenir from a rather bad day," the weapons expert said. "Marley took me before the sun rose, flew me to a hotspot, then dropped me. Literally _dropped me_ , into the thick of it. I managed to get my bearings, but these weren't Grunts, oh no! They were all Jackals and Skirmishers. And not only that, but after about an hour's hard fighting, a Brute showed up. And I'm talking the big kind, the ones that make Gravity Hammers look like household tools. He bellowed and raised his hammer before charging at me like a mad bull. I didn't have the time to grab anything, and I wasn't sacrificing my gun, so I tried to deflect it with my arm," he said, then shook his head. "Tried being the key word. Even with my armor, it barely made a difference. Oh I escaped, but my arm was seriously messed up and blood was running down the limb. I'm still not too sure how I managed to make it out of there."

"Oh! I remember that mission! Marley got me at sunrise and told me Orange needed back up. It was our first one together, wasn't it?" Red said. Orange thought a moment, then nodded.

"Oh yeah... now that I think about it, there was red there that didn't come from my mangled arm. Sorry Bruh, pain, adrenaline, and meds made the whole thing a bit fuzzy," he answered.

"Ah, I guess I should be apologizin' a bit as well, Dex. I was extra grumpy with you once we were back in Blood Gulch," Red said, a little awkward. Dex waved his unarmored hand at the man.

"Don't bother. I was extra disrespectful that... week," he said. Eagle chuckled.

"Tell another would ya? I don't think Tucker's traumatized enough," he said, jerking his head toward the frozen soldier. Dex chuckled and bared his leg to show what had to be the work of a frag grenade.

"This one was shortly before you arrived Rookie," Dex said, causing Rick to shuck in a sharp breath.

"You don't mean... you got those just before the Warthog got delivered... do you?" he asked. Dex chuckled again, nodding. "Blast it, man! How did you hide that from us? It looks like you were caught in the blast," Rick pressed. Tucker got the feeling Dex gave the IT specialist a flat look.

"The same way I hid the fact that I couldn't use my left arm for a week and a half, and even then it hurt like fire," he said.

"Ah. Touche," Rick allowed with an inclination of his head.

"As I was saying, I got these about... ten hours before the Warthog was delivered, roughly a week before the Rookies showed up," Dex continued. "Marley and Flowdie came and picked me up around... nine I think. Anyway, Marley told me that she didn't think she and a new member could handle the mission on their own and they needed someone with my skill set to pull it off. Basically, what it boiled down to was go in guns blazing, set a charge, and run out guns blazing while screaming our lungs out. Well, it went about as usual. The mission was accomplished and once again, I was bleeding. Only, I was also a walking bruise because I was caught in the radius of said blast and thrown through the air, slamming through two trees and fetching up against a large boulder with painful force. I didn't even realize I'd caught some of the shrapnel in my leg until Marley was pulling it out of me, piece by piece," he finished, pulling his black undersuit back into place and beginning to refasten his armor. "Incidentally, after that, Marley told me to lay off training, which included target practice. So I wasn't being lazy, I was following the doctor's orders," he added, sounding rather amused. His teammates were as well, considering they snorted.

"How about this one that I got from New Jersey when I tried to get a look at her pistol?" Rick asked, showing off a scar on his neck. "That was terrifying," he added with a shiver. Red scoffed.

"Oh yeah? How about this one I got off an Elite's Energy Sword back on Reach?" he asked, somehow showing them a scar on his shoulder.

"Okay, Red's got us beat," Dex said, hands in the air. "No-one can beat a Reach story."

"You were on Reach when it fell?" Tucker asked in morbid awe.

"Yep. One of the worst days of my life," the old soldier said mournfully.

"Okay! Enough depressing talk. Caboose! Happy story time," Church said, clapping his hands and turning to the simple Blue. Tucker shook his head and realized, maybe the past two months weren't as bad as he thought they had been. Still caused him nightmares though.

/?/

A/N: Well. This one did not want to be written, I can tell you that. Man. Ah well, hope you enjoy it all the same!


	47. Episode 44

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB.

 **Episode 44:** Red vs Blue or Me against You?

Tucker looked around the base and finally made his comment. "What's with all the glitter on the walls?" Church chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well, with the confirmation that, yes, Red and Blue was a lie, we decided to switch from live ammo to... ahem... _special_ rounds," he said, not only sounding but _looking_ rather uncomfortable.

"Glitter? You're fighting with... glitter?" Tucker asked. He knew he shouldn't be surprised, he really shouldn't, but he was. Even after all the crazy shenanigans he'd gone through with the crew, and apart from it, he was still a bit surprised.

"No, just Eagle. The rest of us use paint. Hence, the orange marks and the maroon cuts," Church corrected, pointing out the offending paint on the bland concrete walls. Tucker took in the 'damage' then shook his head with a sigh.

"Guess it was too much to ask for a normal group of friends," he moaned, even if there was a smile tugging at his lips.

"Admit it, you'd be bored if we were anywhere close to normal," Dex said, hopping off the top of the base and unwittingly summarizing the returned Blue's thoughts perfectly.

"Why were you on our base?" Tucker asked, flummoxed. Sure, the Reds were now more on the 'friend' side of 'frienemies' but still. There were limits.

/*/

Dex wasn't too sure how to respond to Tucker's confusion. 'Did he forget that my sister is here, in his base?' the weapons' expert wondered, staring at the Blue and furiously trying to get his mouth to spit out those very same words. However, someone beat him to the explanation. Thought, he was torn between gratitude and annoyance with said 'explanation.' And yes, the quote marks _were_ necessary.

"Because he is a _Roof Ninja!_ " Caboose declared dramatically.

And that was why. Dex sighed quietly and smirked, having decided to go along with Caboose, whose teammates ignored him. Well, that wouldn't do, now would it?

"What he said," Dex said, pointing to the oft-ignored Caboose.

"Wait... what did he say?" Church asked, causing Dex's left eyebrow to twitch slightly. Good Lord, was this how it always was with these guys? Dex had never thought he'd feel a certain kind of kinship toward a Blue, but he was _seriously_ feeling Caboose's pain right then.

"That I'm a Roof Ninja," Dex declared tonelessly, ruthlessly shoving his indignant ire to the side. He'd deal with his abandonment issues later. Or were they neglect issues? Ah well, it wasn't like he was a psych major or anything. Heck, he didn't even get the _chance_ to go to college before getting drafted for Freelancer's little sandbox. O~kay, ruthless shoving, right now. Focus!

"Everyone knows about the Secret Order of the Roof Ninjas," Caboose said, nodding seriously.

"There's a secret order? And if everyone knows about it, how is it secret?" Tucker asked, attempting to poke logic shaped holes in their reasoning.

"Of course there's a Secret Order!" Caboose said, as though Tucker were an idiot.

"If people didn't know about us, how would we get hired?" Dex offered reasonably. "I mean, ninja's gotta eat right? Where do you think they get the money?"

"I don't know, assassinating some rich guy?" Tucker tried.

"Close. Getting _hired_ to assassinate some rich guy," Dex corrected.

"I do not think he deserves a cookie. So I shall give Tucker's cookie to you," Caboose said, handing Dex a cookie.

"Thank you, Caboose. At least _someone_ around here cares if I get a cookie or not," the Agent said, graciously accepting the, only mildly burnt, cookie from Blue Team's walking disaster.

"You are welcome, Mr. Ninja," Caboose said seriously. Church and Tucker decided that was a perfect time to slip off and complain together. Dex chuckled and turned to Caboose.

"Well. That was fun," he said. Caboose laughed.

"Yes. I had fun. I am glad you did too, Dex," he said, then jerked his head toward the base. "Come in, I know where Tucker hides his whiskey." Dex blinked as the blue walked away.

"Wait... what?" That was... perfectly coherent and _totally_ something _he_ would say!

"Yeah, he does that," Kai said, peeking down from the top of the base. Shaking his head, Dex followed the strange blue.

"You didn't share this stash with Kai, did you?" he asked, fully prepared to _bury_ him if he said yes.

"Of course not! I want to live," Caboose answered, peeking a bare head around the corner. Dex chuckled at the almost offended look on the other soldier's face.

"Just checking," he said, shaking his head and following the man.

/*/

Rick was once more fiddling with the Epsilon Unit, trying to coax the unwilling A.I. out, when he heard Lopez go down. Reacting as was only logical, Rick threw Epsilon onto Dex's bed, where it was immediately swallowed by the Blanket/Laundry Monster, and drew his guns. While plastered to the wall and relying on his motion trackers to tell him if and when someone was coming. He ended up hearing the oncoming threat before he saw it. Stilling his breathing and crouching low, he aimed for the knees... and fired! Sadly, his gun was still loaded with paint from the last 'match' and so it didn't _really_ take the intruder down... but it did tell him who it was. There was only one person who swore in French with a Spanish accent that had access to tech like that. "Flowdie?" Rick breathed but didn't ponder it for long as he decided, if it took a paint round to the knee for him to be seen, then Agent Hippie had gone rouge. And a rogue Hippie was _not_ something he wanted to fight. Trusting Dex's Monster to keep Epsilon hidden, Rick legged it, switching to Agent Mode as he ran. His scanners would still have a rough time tracking the rogue Agent, but it'd be easier than with the standard software. "Fudge fudge fudge _fudge in a burning outhouse!_ " the tech hissed furiously under his breath as his Agent level scanners picked up _traces..._ and only traces. Luckily, there was only five. Unluckily... _there were five smudges on his HUD!_ " _Dancing burning fudge_ _ **volcano!**_ " Rick felt _quite_ justified for his cursing, unconventional as it was.

"Now who would waste such a culinary delight as fudge on all that?" an ice cold voice asked and Rick bodily threw himself into the next hallway, army crawling five feet in two seconds before managing to scramble to his feet and start running for the Warthog anew, a stream of very real and _very_ colorful expletives spilling out more or less involuntarily under his breath. He felt _very_ justified for those.

"Sweet mother of Godiva _that wasn't Marley!_ " Rick muttered, too terrified to even _think_ of radioing the others. Besides, if Agent _'Surgeon of Death'_ _ **Oregon**_ was on the rogues' side, chances were she would jack the transmission... or jam it, it was hard to say. He tore past a sparking Lopez and leaped into the Warthog the poor android seemed to have fallen defending... then promptly let out the most piteous and horror inducing _wailing keen_ he was physically capable of producing as the full depth of his troubles firmly sank in. They'd killed the Warthog. Simmons vaulted out of the vehicle and pulled up the hood. No starter coil. " _FREELANCERS!_ " he snarled, slamming it closed again with all the strength of the spurned and grabbing Lopez's head, expertly detaching it from his ruined torso.

"Why does this always happen to me?" the robot droned.

"Because you can survive it _and_ you haven't figured out how to 'jump ship,' so to speak, just yet," Rick said, turning to run again when Eagle ambled over.

"Hey Rick, I thought I heard a baby being murdered. Know any..." the sniper began, then froze at the sight of Rick holding Lopez's head. "Do I want to know?" he asked _very_ slowly.

"No time!" Rick hissed, tossing the head to the sniper and pulling both guns back out. "Shut up, stay close, and be ready to run like the snakes of hell are on your heels." Eagle immediately snapped over into Agent Mode, the humor almost completely draining out of him as he followed Rick... but they were too late. In front of them, Oregon and Washington de-cloaked; to the left, Ed; to the right; Jack, behind them, Flowdie. "W~ell~ _crap_ ," Rick remarked, summarizing their situation _quite_ nicely, raising his hands and dropping his guns.

"And things were looking so _good_ too," Burgundy remarked drily, holding Lopez's head in one hand and presenting the other in 'surrender.'

"Where is he?" Washington asked. Maroon quirked an eyebrow at the man.

"'He?'" the man drawled. "You're going to need to be a bit more specific, Agent Washington, there are a plethora of 'he's in this canyon."

"Epsilon," Oregon snapped. Burgundy just _barely_ held back a flinch at her cold tone.

'Dead,' he thought, staring at her in numb shock. 'She sounds so _dead_.'

"Ah. Him," Maroon drawled, relaxing ever so slightly. Burgundy's eyes flickered over to his teammate, only long hours of mental discipline holding him back from asking, 'Are you sure this is the best time to be making quips?' "He's not really the talkative type. Rather _cagey,_ if you ask me," Maroon forged on.

"Where. Is. He," Washington ground out, finger twitching on his trigger.

"Quite the temper you got there," Burgundy remarked, mentally cursing Maroon for infecting him with his lethal snarkiness. "And here I thought we were friends. You think ya know a guy," he added, shaking his head for added effect. He received no warning, none at all, before a bullet tore through him, shattering the windshield of the Warthog behind him. Maroon gasped in shock as Burgundy looked down at the slowly growing red spot on his black undersuit. "Hey Maroon?" he began, raising his head to give a hidden look of bland shock to his comrade, "I think he shot me."

"Burgundy!" Maroon yelped as the sniper fell first to his knees, then his side, and finally... tipped over onto his back, blood slowly, _oh so slowly,_ pooling under him. Rick clenched his fists so hard that had he not been wearing his gloves... chances were he'd have made four crescent-shaped cuts in his palms. The furious glare he turned on the Phantoms was so potent, they could _feel_ it through his visor. "If you thought that would make me co-operate... then you have _severely_ misjudged me," the tech growled before diving for his guns... or, more specifically, the _knives attached to them_. It was only Oregon yanking him backward that saved Washington from getting slashed with _religiously_ serviced knives.

"Fall back! Fall back!" Oregon barked, still dragging Washington.

"What the heck is this?!" yelped Ed, rapidly backpedaling out of the way of a wild yet _wholly_ controlled throw, the knife whizzing back through the air as its owner deftly manipulated the wire attached to its hilt.

"He's gone berserk!" Oregon replied, just the barest hint of fear in her voice.

"What?!" yelped Jack, redoubling his efforts to _get away_.

"Luckily, he won't go too far from what caused him to go berserk. In this case, Burgundy," Flowdie said, circling around to avoid the whirling blades of death... and then falling flat on his face to avoid the hail of bullets that soon replaced the rather limited knives. "Unluckily, he's almost as good a shot as Burgundy and unless I miss my guess, he's got more than the standard amount of ammunition on him," Flowdie added blandly.

"NOT HELPING!" his comrades yelled at him, running from the maroon maelstrom. Maroon grinned savagely even as his guns clicked empty... for the third time.

"That's right you Freelancers, _run_ ," he snarled before staggering and looking over his shoulder at the still form of his teammate. "Right. Medic," he muttered, turning on his radio and contacting Dex.

/*/

Dex was actually rather enjoying a simple drink with simple company. It had been quite some time since he'd had a fine whiskey and say what you would about Tucker, the man knew his whiskey. So, when his radio buzzed he was distinctly displeased. Sighing, he carefully set his drink down as he picked up his discarded helmet. "Name, rank, intention," he drawled.

"Maroon. Technical Agent. Requesting medical assistance," Maroon's clipped tones replied. Orange tensed and glared out the window.

"What. Happened," he growled, fighting to remain civil.

"The Phantoms... they've gone Freelancer. Asked about Epsilon. When we wouldn't hand him over, Washington shot Burgundy. I'm not ashamed to say I went full on crazy on their asses," Maroon relayed. Kai and Caboose were silent, though that might have been because Orange was muttering curses under his breath and glaring so hard at the window it was a small wonder it hadn't started to melt under the intensity.

"Is the unit secure?" he grit out.

"All due respect Orange, I'm more concerned with the _growing puddle of blood_!" Maroon snapped back. Orange growled again and lurched to his feet, scooping up his weapon as he did so.

"On my way. Keep the pressure on till I get there, Soldier," he barked, already striding out the door.

"Aye aye sir!" Maroon quipped grimly and the line went dead.

"Darn you Oregon, you'd better have one _damn_ good reason why you're doing this or so help me I will _bury you_ _ **myself**_ ," Orange vowed, speeding up.

/*/

On the other side of the canyon, in a cave, Oregon shivered. "What?" Florida asked her.

"I may have made a grave mistake lighting a fire under Private Grif," she confessed. Washington, New York, and North Dakota were a little shocked as Florida fell to the ground with a keening wail.

"I think we missed something," Washington remarked dryly.

"Oh wait," York and North chorused. "Private Grif is Dex," York said.

"And Dex is Agent Orange," North said, mounting horror in his voice. Washington blinked, then dropped his head into his hands.

"And I just shot one of his men," he realized.

"Agent Orange has sworn vengeance," Oregon said with a nod, looking out at Red Base.

"How badly?" Florida asked.

"I'm pretty sure he was pissed enough to actually curse. And if he's that pissed, chances are he's vowed to bury me himself," Oregon said. The other Freelance Phantoms winced. It was at this moment they knew... _they done goofed up_.

/*/

The sight that greeted Orange when he arrived at the base was all too familiar... and yet so much _worse_ than anything he'd encountered before. Why? Because this time it was _his little brother_. Maroon was cold, covered in blood, and fingering his knives in a way that made the furious Agent _very_ glad they were on the same side. "How bad?" he asked, dropping beside the prone form of Burgundy, uncaring of the blood he was kneeling in.

"Through and through," Maroon answered in clipped tones. "Took out the windshield. He was coherent enough to say 'I think he shot me' before falling. First to his knees, then his side, then he flopped onto his back." Orange nodded.

"I know it isn't your primary function Gary, but I'm gonna need you to scan his vitals for me. I don't want to lose him and if you're anything less than perfectly honest with me, that's what's gonna happen. You understand?" he said, addressing the appropriated A.I. he hosted in his armor.

"I understand," Gary's electronic voice answered before Orange's HUD lit up with medical scans. He let out a relieved huff of air, his shoulder's sagging just a little.

"Oh, that's good. That's better than I was hoping for, considering who shot him," Orange said, already standing. "Maroon! Good job with the bio-foam, stay here and keep watch, I'll be back with my kit. Kid's gonna need stitches."

"Can he be moved?" Maroon asked. Orange hummed, considering it, then bent down again.

"Medic override GC-2-44-1817," he said. Burgundy's armor hummed and his shields flickered. Orange nodded and turned to Maroon. "Take his legs, I'll take his shoulders. We'll move him to the flag room. Once I've got my kit I'll deactivate the armor lock and sew him up," he said. Maroon nodded and the two maneuvered their teammate inside.

"What are we going to do about the Freelancers?" Maroon asked. Orange growled.

"We hold the base," he answered.

"What about the Blues?"

"There is no Red and Blue, Maroon."

"... You wanna call 'em or should I?" Orange sighed.

"Once I'm done with Burgundy, I'll call Kai," he said. Maroon nodded and took up a guarding position while the team's medic went for his kit.

"Hey Dex, Oregon's out front," Rick said just as Dex was finishing sewing Eagle up. Dex growled.

"I'll be right there, Maroon," he answered.

"Roger that Orange."A moment later, Orange was reliving Maroon of guard duty while the tech went to make sure their sniper didn't do something incredibly stupid while high on painkillers. "Alright, Freelancer," Orange snarled as reasonably as he could, "what's all this about do you want?"

"I'm here to negotiate," Oregon called up.

"For what?" Orange asked.

"Epsilon," the Freelancer answered, igniting a cold fire in Orange's stomach.

/?/

A/N: So... what do you think? A little humor, a little suspense, and an alternative set up for the Meta and Wash arc! It took me a while to work that little bit of the plot out but once I had it, this Episode just kinda... happened.


	48. Episode 45

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB.

 **Episode 45:** Much Ado about A.I.

Kai was tense. There were very few things that made Dex react the way he had. And of the things that did... none of them were anything close to 'good.' Reaching a decision, she tore through the base, gathering up the rest of the crew. It actually took less effort than Kai had thought to get the other Blues to not only head over to Red Base but also give a positively _seething_ Red a lift.

"Hey, you ever notice how the Reds are the ones with all the drama?" Tucker asked as they tore through the canyon toward Red Base.

"Alien baby, Alpha A.I., _Beta_ A.I., Wyoming, Washington, bomb bot, _Dex's little sister_ , storming Freelancer Command... I think we've got our own fair share of drama, Tucker," Church drawled, giving the swordsman what would have been a glare. Tucker sighed.

"Withdrawn," he admitted.

"If you two are done," Kai growled, pulling off a passable impersonation of her brother, "we have a situation that had Dex storming out snarling like an enraged wolf on our hands." That got the boys to stop fighting... for the moment. She was under no illusions that they _weren't_ going to start back up again within the hour, but those blessed few moments of peace? She was going to treasure them by thunder!

"So... any idea who, or what, we're up against?" Tucker asked, a little wary of Kai's answer.

"No. Not a clue," Kai replied with a sigh. Church hummed, then hissed. "You got something Church?" Kai asked, torn between wanting to know what was going on and to believe that ignorance was truly bliss

"Yeah, two somethings," the A.I. growled. Kai groaned. That sounded about as good as Dex's snarls.

"Well don't leave us in suspense!" Tucker shouted, nerves singing under his skin and tension mounting. 'It's Sandtrap all over again,' he moaned in the privacy of his mind.

"Theta and Delta," Church ground out. Ice flooded Kai's veins, and judging from their postures, Tucker's and Red's as well.

"The Away Team?" she asked, hoping against hope that they didn't have to fight _them_.

"That's what I'm getting," Church said grimly. Kai sighed.

"This... is gonna be rough," she moaned.

"Red Base ho!" Red called. Kai saw the figure standing in front of the ramp, as well as the rifle pointed at it, and gunned the Warthog's engines. They slammed into the figure, the Warthog bouncing slightly.

"Ha! How's my bumper taste?!" Kai shouted. A hand suddenly popped up in her view. "Oh skits!" she shouted and proceeded to show that, yes, she was a Grif after all, thank you very much.

/*/

Dex whistled as he saw his baby sister fling Oregon off the nose of the Warthog into a pile of energy cores. "That's my girl," he remarked quietly, just before Red blew up the cores with a well-placed shotgun blast. "And that's Red," he said, quiet pride replaced with fond exasperation. Kai pulled up behind the Red Base and Red hopped down. "She'll be back," Dex warned.

"And we'll be ready for her!" Red countered, chambering another round in his shotgun.

"Don't forget the rest of the Phantoms are with her if Theta and Delta are anything to go by," Church warned, disembarking from the Warthog himself.

"Sadly, Church is right. It's no longer Red vs Blue... it's Us against Them," Dex said.

"It's Red verses Red, and Blue verses Blue. It's I against I, and Me against You. Violets are Blue, Roses are Red, Living like this, we were already dead~," Gary sang, strangely upbeat music playing in the background.

"Hey... wasn't that what played to wake us up in the morning back at Blood Gulch?" Rick asked.

"Churches, they've got a twisted sense of humor," Dex said with a shrug.

"Still, it fits eerily well in this situation," Kai remarked.

"And I like it. It's catchy," Church said.

"Case in point," Maroon quipped drily.

"Do not make me shoot you," the A.I. growled, pointing his gun in their general area. Both Reds scoffed.

"Oh no, Church is threatening us with a gun, whatever shall we do?" Dex drawled.

"I hate you all, so much," the A.I. growled but put his gun away.

"Guys, we still have a base to fortify against freaking _Freelancers!_ Freelancers that had Maroon on the ropes _and_ gunned down our best sniper!" Kai said pointedly. Sadly, her brother couldn't argue with that and instead set to stationing them where they could make the best use of their own brands of crazy. He knew better than to try to actually give them orders. It had taken a while, but the Red Agents had come to recognize that the teams were just too unconventional for order and logic to help. And that... was just what Dex was counting on.

"The Freelancers have always had the best equipment, the best training, and above all... the best _discipline_ ," the orange-clad soldier said over the radio as his team ran last minute checks. "While the Reds have gotten better lately, we're all _quite_ used to the cast-offs, the cut rate, and an out and out lack of any kind of military mind guiding our actions. We are, in affect, a squad of _brawlers_. Granted, we're brawlers with military grade arms and armor, but the fact remains... we aren't really soldiers. Not in the traditional sense. And that is what is going to bring Freelancer to its _knees!_ "

"Isn't that what Marley's been telling us all this time?" Maroon asked. Orange chuckled.

"Yes... all the while trying to _pound some kind of sense into us!_ " he answered with savage glee.

"What are you getting at?" Tucker asked.

"He means that while Marley _knows_ our unconventional methods are enough to take her and her former agency down, she is, and always has been, a soldier. She can't unbox _herself_ ," Red said, understanding blooming in his voice.

"Exactly!" Orange cheered, pointing dramatically to his former CO, who was staring at him in stunned silence. "I'm so glad you've decided to at least hear what I'm saying," Dex said with a happy little sigh.

"Wow. Easily appeased much?" Kai asked.

"Cut the cheek Sista! Ten years of selective deafness trumps three!" Orange snapped, causing his sister to jerk back with a faint gulp. The rest of the Blues whistled... except for Caboose. He didn't understand the burn. Poor Caboose.

"Still, we need a negotiator. Someone who can get Oregon to tell us just what the heck is going on and why she's gone all psycho-bitch on us," Red said. "Negotiation was never my strong suit," he declared.

"Mine either," Orange admitted to himself. "GENTLEMEN! It has come to my attention that we are in need of a negotiator!" he bellowed to the rest of the base.

"I'm the official field negotiator for Blue Team," Kai offered. Dex growled.

"I'm not risking you like that, Kai. I trusted Marley, and she turned around and went back to being Agent Oregon. There's no telling what they'll do to you," he declared.

"Hey, what about Doc?" Maroon offered. Orange froze, Red froze, Tucker froze, Church tilted his head, Kai chuckled.

"Doc?" Dex asked darkly.

"Doc~," Kai purred.

"That nut?" Red asked.

"Well, most of us don't like him all that much, he was able to withstand O'Malley being in his head, and he's trained in psychology. Plus, he's _purple_ ," Maroon offered.

"Hum... not an integral part of our team, mental strength, has some understanding of how a sane mind should work, a neutral party... Sure. You got his number?" Church finally decided. Maroon sighed.

"No, I don't," he said.

"Oh well, guess we'll have to think of someone else," Dex said, far too cheerful.

"Churches? Either of you know how to contact Frank DeFreaunse?" Maroon asked, looking between Orange and Church.

"I'm pretty sure you said it wrong, but I suppose I could find him, given a few moments," Church said.

"Calling now," Gary droned.

"Show off," Church groused, crossing his arms. Kai laughed and threw an arm around his mechanical shoulders.

"Aw~! Come on~! You're proud of him, admit it~!" she sang teasingly. The A.I. inhabited robot turned what somehow managed to be a dour look on her.

"And you know this how?" he drawled.

"Uh, look who _I_ have for a big brother," Kai pointed out, voice flat.

"Ah," Church said blandly before pointing at her, "point to you." Kai giggled and Church sighed before turning to the flat, dull green holo. "Well done Gary, I'm proud of your skills," he said, actually managing to put sincere emotion into it. Gary flickered before vanishing.

"Huh," Orange mused, turning to Church, "congratulations, I do believe Gary's embarrassed." Had he been able, Church would have blinked.

"Huh. Odd, I didn't think a complement would have that great an effect on him," he said thoughtfully.

"Oh, sorry Doc, I was talking to Church... Right. This is Sargent Dexter Grif Outpost 17b requesting assistance with... well. A Code Freelancer," Orange said. Everyone went still, waiting for confirmation of Doc's answer. "Wonderful~!" Orange purred, sending shivers down the others spines. "Oh, nothing, just a Code Freelancer and high-stress negotiations that, if they fail, will land us in a massive firefight."

"Twenty bucks says Doc's regretting saying yes," Red said, his smirk audible in his voice.

"Sucker's... bet," Burgundy wheezed.

"Oh, skits," Doc's voice said... from Orange's helmet.

"Called it," Burgundy huffed, sounding like he was just barely holding back laughter. Orange shook his head.

"You shouldn't be putting stress on the wound, Burgundy," he said, "it may have been a through and through, but you've still got a hole clean through you that had to be stitched up."

"I'm... fine..." the sniper said, trying to wave it off. Orange growled and stalked over.

"Medic override GC-2-44-1817," he hissed, Burgundy's armor lock re-engaging and freezing him in place. "Right. While he's resting and we're waiting... I'm gonna fix dinner. Card table is down the hall on the right, but don't touch the first closet. That one is Red's and trust me, you _don't_ want to know what's in there," he said, striding off toward the kitchen.

"How will Eagle eat?" Kai asked.

"I'll unlock his armor long enough for him to drink some soup, then it's back under," Orange declared. So, with a shrug, the others pulled out the table and cards and had the first Red and Blue Game Night. Burgundy's moans were ignored as his armor's advanced health suite worked to heal him. It was just another Friday Night in Valhalla.

/*/

Doc arrived in record time to a base prepared for war. Or, as prepared as the BGC could get. It was highly disorganized, loud, and chaotic, but Doc was noticed immediately, so he figured it was effective enough. "Doc, how wonderful of you to come," he heard Dex drawl. He turned and froze. That wasn't Dex.

"Agent Orange?" he asked. The Agent jerked slightly, then chuckled.

"Oh, right. The armor. Yeah, I'm Agent Orange. Project Red is real. Maroon's Rick, Red's Red, Burgundy's Eagle Eye, and we're in a fight against Black who's gone rouge for some reason. We called you to negotiate with Black and the other Phantoms because we're just not good at it and I don't want to risk Kai, even if she's officially the Blue Team's field negotiator. I have no clue what Church was thinking when he gave her that job," Dex rambled. Doc blinked, a little stunned.

"What?"

"We need you to negotiate because we suck at it and Dex is a brother bear," Eagle said, voice strained. Dex swung around and looked at the Agent, Doc was fairly sure he was glaring.

"You are supposed to be resting, Eagle," Dex growled. Eagle scoffed.

"My healing unit's one of the best, programmed by Black herself. I'd say I'm cleared for light duty," he said, resolute. Dex sighed while Rick chuckled.

"He's got a point, Dex," the maroon soldier said, looping an arm around his friend's shoulders.

"Don't push it," Dex growled.

"There is something wrong with you people," Doc breathed.

"Maybe, but we sure have more fun," Red remarked.

/*/

It took them another hour or so to get settled back down, though Doc would never look at glitter the same way again and Eagle was laid out from reopening his wounds. Of course, by that time, the Rouges had arrived. Thankfully, they were visible this time, but the Sims weren't taking any chances. Doc was pushed forward and looked at the five Rouges, quivering slightly. They were an intimidating group. "Um... Hi. I'm Doc," he said.

"We know who you are," the one in dark green armor and purple highlights growled.

"Um. Well. I... I've been called to act as an impartial party at the negotiations between..." the medic began.

"Ah ah ah~! No," Dex said, stepping forward, "I thought we agreed that you'd be arguing _our_ side!" he said.

"Wait... did we?" Doc asked, looking back toward the orange-armored man. Oregon sighed heavily.

"Doc... just..." she trialed off, shaking her head. "I got nothing."

"I'm the third party here!" Doc finally shouted, glaring at Dex and startling the other occupants of the canyon with his forcefulness. "You told me, as soon as I arrived, _and I quote_ , 'we called you to negotiate with Black and the other Phantoms because we're just not good at it.' In what way does that mean I'm arguing you're side?! SO! As the negotiator, I'm declaring myself neutral in this argument and you lot can all shut up, sit down, and _let me do my fragging_ _ **job already!**_ " Oregon began to clap, long and slow. The others followed suit and before long, Doc was the bewildered recipient of a standing ovation.

"Nice speech Doc. So, where's the peace table?" York said.

"I'll take two representatives on my ship, which is neutral ground," Doc decided. "Chose your spokesperson."

"That'll be me," Oregon said, stepping forward.

"I'm going too," Florida demanded. Doc sighed.

"As long as you just watch, that'll do," he said. Dex and Red stepped up for the Sims and Doc lead the four toward his ship.

/*/

When they arrived on Doc's ship, they were surprised to be greeted by a green-purple hologram, similar to Theta's. "Uh, hello?" Doc said.

"I am Chi, Chi Church," the hologram said before appearing on Doc's shoulder. "And I have decided you would make a good host."

"Well, that's not creepy at all," Florida remarked quietly. Oregon remained silent.

"That one's been resisting all attempts to get it open, much like Epsilon. How much have you heard lil' fella," Red said, addressing the A.I.

"While in the care of Private Simmons, codename: Maroon, I have been aware of my surroundings and learned much of you and your team. Since the downfall of Project Freelancer, I have been searching for a new host. None of your men were suitable. This one, designation Doc, is."

"Precocious one aren't you," Oregon drawled, her stoic facade fractured.

"Oi, I didn't bring you here to snip at an A.I. that decided to attach itself to my armor for some odd reason," Doc said, pulling out a card table. "Now, Black, what do the Phantoms want?"

"That's not Black," Dex growled. "That's Agent Oregon of Project Freelancer."

"Fine. What do the Freelancers want, Agent Oregon?" Doc amended.

"We want Epsilon," Oregon told him. Doc nodded.

"Dex, what does your side want? Also, what are you called?"

"We want an explanation for attacking our base," Dex growled, staring (read: glaring) at Oregon.

"And your group name?" Doc prompted, pen poised over a notepad.

"Call us... the BGC," Red answered. Doc nodded, noting it down, while Dex shot Red a look.

"Oregon, can you tell me why your team attacked the Red Base of the BGC?" Doc asked, looking intently at the green and purple Agent, steadfastly ignoring the two members of the BGC.

"We want Epsilon, and they have him," Oregon said. Orange glared at the woman in front of him.

"You had him. Why attack us for what you already had?" he told her coldly.

"There's more to this than you think!" Oregon countered.

"Then tell me!" Orange demanded, slamming his hands down and the table and pushing to his feet, looming ominously over the slight woman.

"You wouldn't understand!" Oregon declared, shoving herself in his face. The medic stood and tried to get the m to back away from each other.

"Oregon... I can't say that these guys understand a whole lot, but I'm pretty sure they understand more than you think. Why not give them a chance?" he offered, only to have his voice drowned out by Orange.

"TRY ME!" the 'Simulation Trooper' challenged. Oregon grit her teeth.

"Freedom comes with a price tag," she said softly, stepping back.

"Freedom at the expense of a friend is _not_ freedom!" Orange yelled. Oregon faltered.

"You got him to open up?" she asked, breathless.

"No... but he is still a member of Red Team. And I, for one, shall not be turning him over for experimentation!" Orange declared firmly, falling back into his chair, arms crossed.

"Oregon, please, sit down and tell us why you want Epsilon so bad you'd try to steal him rather than ask nicely," Doc said, though there was an undercurrent of steel neither Agent had heard from the medic before. The woman complied with a sigh.

"Fine. I struck a deal. I don't deliver, things turn nasty," Oregon said. "I was a fool to think I could save them all," she muttered, leaning back in her seat.

"And how is stealing your own A.I. gonna help?" Dex asked. "Whatever's in that memory unit, it isn't coming out, Freelancer. We've tried just about everything."

"The deal was we turn over the Epsilon unit, we go free," Oregon said. "They didn't say anything about waking the A.I. up."

"And what's to say they aren't going to change the deal when the find out the unit isn't going to respond?" Dex challenged, leaning forward. "What are you going to do then? Run?"

"Then we turn over all the A.I. we have. Including Alpha," Oregon replied calmly.

"And that's bad why?" Red asked. Doc groaned,

"You guys~! This isn't..." but was ignored.

"Because the A.I. wouldn't be the only one's taken," Oregon said. Dex sighed.

"Yeah. That would make all this pointless, wouldn't it? But we can't hand over Epsilon."

"Why?" asked Doc. "Why can't you just let him go?"

"Memory is the key, and somethings are best left locked away," Chi chimed in. "Duh."

"Oh be quite Chi," Oregon said tiredly.

"Here's another flaw in the ultimatum. What if the A.I. have a means of escape?" Doc said. "This one apparently did," he said, pointing to Chi, who was calmly floating beside him.

"Yo," the A.I. said, giving the other two a peace sign.

"Actually, I didn't know Freelancer made a Chi fragment," Florida mused.

"Well they made an Omega fragment, didn't they?" Chi countered. "And it's pronounced 'kie,' by the way."

"He's got a point," Doc said, nodding. "But, back to the matter at hand..."

"I want Marley back, but I also don't want to condemn another intelligence to incarceration. As I said before, freedom at the expense of a friend isn't freedom at all. Success at the expense of a teammate was what destroyed Freelancer... I will not allow that to happen to _my family_ ," Orange growled. Oregon sighed.

"I can't go back, Dex," she said.

"Then I suppose we're at something of an impasse, aren't we? Can't go back, can't go forward," Orange sighed.

"You can't fight us Orange," Oregon said.

"Watch me, Freelancer," Dex declared, taking his gun and stalking outside. Doc slumped over his card table as Red, Oregon, and Florida followed and gunfire began to scorch the air outside his ship.

"There there, Doc. It'll be okay," Chi said, his hologram patting the medic's shoulder.

"You sound far too amused for that to be comforting," Doc muttered darkly. Chi chuckled.

"Well, I _am_ the humor fragment," he said.

"The Alpha must have had one twisted sense of humor to produce you," Doc remarked. Chi just continued to laugh as Civil War was declared in Valhalla.

/?/

A/N: Alright, I apologize for the long wait but this whole Civil War set up is even more flimsy of a conflict than the Socovia Accords in Captain America: Civil War was. That being said, I'm gonna have to re-watch the whole Wash and Meta Arc to pin down their rabbit trail and work out how they're going to get Epsilon out of storage, get to the off-site storage facility, trigger the event with Tex, the other one with Tex and Wash that resulted in Wash joining Blue Team and Epsilon getting taken, and Carolina coming into the scene. From there I have a _very_ rough idea but it's still shaky and more chapters aren't likely to come until sometime near 12/25/16 or 1/6/16. Not to mention life, family, and the holidays messing with my ability to write.


	49. Episode 46

Disclaimer: … Disclaimed.

A/N: Episode 47 is proving... difficult; however, I have decided that this story has sat long enough so, here's how the Civil War began on the Phantom's side of it.

 **Episode 46:** How we Got Here

It took a couple days, some fast talking, a blue suit, a wig, copious amounts of hair gel, two fake mustaches, lots of hand signals, and a dirigible's worth of hot air, but the Phantoms were free to go. "I never knew you practiced law Flowdie," Marley remarked.

"OBJECTION! I _play_ law," the man said, leveling the Dramatic Finger at her as he had done so many times in the last six hours. Marley shook her head at her comrade, trying to ignore the chuckling of his mustachioed co-conspirators.

"Ah, Phoenix Wright, Ace Attorney. Who knew the skills we learned there would save our team?" Ed asked. Marley blinked and looked over at the locksmith.

"Wait... you mean... that ridiculous retro game you used to play _all the time_ on the MoI... _that's_ where all that came from?" Wash asked.

"So... wait. Video games just saved us from prison?" Marley added, shocked. Jack cackled.

"Yep," he said.

"OBJECTION! That was not proper grammar!" Flowdie yelled. Marley was just glad they were far enough away from people that no-one knew what was going on.

"I'm surrounded by crazy," she muttered. "Still... saved by a video game."

"Well, not all of us," Ed said sadly. Marley's face contorted in distaste as she contemplated what she had to do, the deal she had made.

"And I was so hoping to have a Memory A.I.," she snarled, angry at the courts for their demands. She didn't want to give up Epsilon! But... it was him... or all the A.I. Including Alpha Church. She couldn't do that to Caboose. Or Tucker. No, it had to be Epsilon. If they didn't... well. She didn't want to go back to prison. Still... "What a fool I was, thinking I could change Fate." The men shared looks over their unofficial leader's head. None of them liked seeing her that way.

"But... you did," Flowdie told her softly. She shook her head.

"No, Flowdie, I don't think I did," she muttered. Wash shook his head and came around in front of her.

"Stop, ok? Look, I won't even pretend to know what you're talking about with fate and changing things and what not, but I do know that without you, I wouldn't be who I am today. I would never have gone on a pranking spree at Command, I wouldn't have sassed the Director to the degree I did, I would have argued with the Sims. Heck, the Reds might have actually tried to attack us if it hadn't been for you! York would be dead if you hadn't stepped it. So would North. So just... stop. Stop telling yourself it wasn't enough. It was. It totally was, because if you hadn't done what you had... things would be darker than they already are, got it?" he said, giving her a serious look through his visor. She gave him a weary smile.

"Yeah. I got it," she said before continuing to trudge toward the pick-up point. The men shared a look and sighed.

"This is going to be unpleasant," Ed bemoaned. That was when their ship dropped down in front of them and opened the bay door.

"All aboard the Phantom Express!" a familiar voice called.

"479er!" Marley crowed, bouncing through to the co-pilot seat. The men decided to let the women just have their privacy and congregated in the back to swap stories and relax. It was a long flight back to Valhalla after all.

/*/

"This is close enough, 9er," Marley said, eying Red Base.

"Alright ladies, it's been fun," the pilot said, opening the bay doors.

"Thanks for the assist," Marley told her before blanking her visor and jumping out, swiftly followed by the others. "Cloak!" she called, vanishing under the unique tech she'd had developed for Project Red, even if she'd decided to wear the suit modeled after the one Dr. Church had given her. The other four swiftly followed her lead and soon, five phantoms landed in Valhalla, right beside the Red Team's Warthog.

"A~nd yoink!" York said, pulling the starter coil out of the jeep.

"Hey! What are you... " Lopez began, only for Wash to put a spray of bullets into his torso, causing him to fall and momentarily off-line.

"Quick, that won't buy us much time," Washington told the rest of the group. They nodded and spread out, searching the base for the Epsilon unit. Florida came across Rick first, or rather, Rick's paint rounds found his knees.

"Verwechselt alles!" the man hissed, falling backward to allow him to reach the Freelancer Lock-Down paint.

"Flowdie?" he heard Rick mutter softly before a blur of maroon and gray dashed out of the room. Florida swore again when he realized his cloak had fallen when the tech hit him with the Lock-Down paint.

"We've got a runner," he informed Oregon. "Rick got me in the knees with Lock-Down paint, I'm gonna be out for a while."

"On it, Florida," she replied.

/*/

Oregon knew just how tricky Rick could be if given time, and considering that this was his home turf, she was wary of what the man could throw her way. " _Dancing burning fudge_ _ **volcano!**_ " she heard his voice hiss not too far from her.

"Now who would waste such a culinary delight as fudge on all that?" she asked in an ice cold voice, catching sight of the man tearing down the hallway. A faint keen and the sound of titanium grinding against concrete sounded as Rick literally threw himself off his collision course and into a nearby corridor. "Well that was a mite bit excessive," Oregon muttered drily to herself before the sound of scrabbling followed by pounding footfalls drew her back to the matter at hand. "Man but he's gotten _fast_ ," she muttered to herself, tearing after the fleeing tech, relying on sound and motion trackers to keep up with the terrified man. A few moments later, she heard the most piteous keening wail she'd ever heard in her life followed by an enraged cry of ' _FREELANCERS!_ ' and the slamming of a Warthog's hood. She winced but commed the rest of the Phantoms. "He's by the Warthog."

"No~! You don't say?" came North's sarcastic drawl.

"Not the time, North," Wash bit out.

"Yeesh, someone got bit by the grumpy bug," York remarked. Oregon met up with Wash just before they turned in front of Rick and Eagle.

"Shut up, stay close, and be ready to run like the snakes of hell are on your heels," Rick said. Wash and Oregon decloaked, seeing the others do the same in flanking positions, cutting the two Reds off. "W~ell~ _crap_ ," Rick remarked, summarizing their situation _quite_ nicely, raising his hands and dropping his guns.

"And things were looking so _good_ too," Burgundy remarked drily, holding Lopez's head in one hand and presenting the other in 'surrender.' Oregon bit back the 'that's when you should be expecting the rug to be snatched out from under you the most' that was dancing on the tip of her tongue.

"Where is he?" Washington asked.

"'He?'" Rick drawled, leaning back on his left leg. Oregon tensed slightly, knowing the right leg was Rick's strongest and most accurate. "You're going to need to be a bit more specific, Agent Washington, there are a plethora of 'he's in this canyon." Oregon bit the inside of her cheek. Her boys always were sarcastic ones.

"Epsilon," she forced herself to snap, wincing when she noticed Eagle hold back a flinch. She didn't like this, but she knew they wouldn't understand why she was doing this. ' _I'm sorry, but I have to do this_.'

"Ah. Him," Maroon drawled, relaxing ever so slightly. Oregon quirked an eyebrow at her student. Really? Quips? Now?" He's not really the talkative type. Rather _cagey,_ if you ask me," Maroon forged on.

"Where. Is. He," Washington ground out, finger twitching on his trigger.

"Quite the temper you got there," Burgundy remarked. "And here I thought we were friends. You think ya know a guy," he added, shaking his head for added effect. He received no warning, none at all, before a bullet tore through him, shattering the windshield of the Warthog behind him. Maroon gasped in shock as Burgundy looked down at the slowly growing red spot on his black undersuit, Oregon clenching her teeth in anger. ' _This wasn't part of the plan_ ,' she seethed, shooting a glare toward Washington. "Hey, Maroon?" Burgundy began, raising his head to look at his comrade, "I think he shot me."

"Burgundy!" Maroon yelped as the sniper fell first to his knees, then his side, and finally... tipped over onto his back, blood slowly pooling under him. The furious glare Rick turned on the Phantoms was so potent, they could _feel_ it through his visor. "If you thought that would make me co-operate... then you have _severely_ misjudged me," the tech growled before diving for his guns... or, more specifically, the _knives attached to them_. It was only Oregon yanking him backward that saved Washington from getting slashed with _religiously_ serviced knives.

"Fall back! Fall back!" Oregon barked, still dragging Washington.

"What the heck is this?!" York asked, voice climbing higher than the time Jersey had flirted with him. With her guns. Fun times, fun tim- _knife!_

"He's gone berserk!" Oregon replied, just the barest hint of fear in her voice as she dodged away from the monster she had awoken.

"What?!" yelped North, redoubling his efforts to _get away_.

"Luckily, he won't go too far from what caused him to go berserk. In this case, Burgundy," Florida said, circling around to avoid the whirling blades of death... and then falling flat on his face to avoid the hail of bullets that soon replaced the rather limited knives. "Unluckily, he's almost as good a shot as Burgundy and unless I miss my guess, he's got more than the standard amount of ammunition on him," he added blandly.

"NOT HELPING!" his comrades yelled at him, running from the maroon maelstrom. Luckily, they managed to escape with only a few cuts and bruises. Still, they had a healthy respect/fear of the usually mild-mannered I.T. Agent.

/*/

Florida could tell that Oregon was not pleased. "What was that?!" she raged once they were safely in the local cave system, turning to Washington. "Why did you shoot Burgundy?!" Washington was slightly taken aback by Oregon's vehemence. But only slightly.

"I... I thought they needed some... incentive?" he said. Oregon growled, fingers twitching toward a rather innocuous looking pouch. An innocuous looking pouch that Florida knew held her 'battle scalpels,' Oregon's answer to combat knives. The blue armored man shivered, echoes of trauma sending pangs of phantom terror and adrenalin through his system

"Well, congratulations, you just drastically lower our chances of getting Epsilon," Oregon growled, glaring at the junior Agent. "Rick is going to call Dex, who is going to invoke Frigid Fury, tipping the Blues off and causing them to follow him. And _then..._ well. We're already in _Valhalla_ , so at least there's that," she finished darkly. The men swallowed heavily. That was when Oregon shivered.

"What?" Florida asked her, though he had a feeling he knew. There was a rather special shiver for when someone vows to kill you after all.

"I may have made a grave mistake lighting a fire under Private Grif," she confessed. Washington, New York, and North Dakota were a little shocked as Florida fell to the ground with a keening wail. Oh, how he hated being right sometimes!

"I think we missed something," Washington remarked dryly.

"Oh wait," York and North chorused. "Private Grif is Dex," York said.

"And Dex is Agent Orange," North said, mounting horror in his voice. Washington blinked, then dropped his head into his hands.

"And I just shot one of his men," he realized.

"Agent Orange has sworn vengeance," Oregon said with a nod, looking out at Red Base.

"How badly?" Florida asked.

"I'm pretty sure he was pissed enough to actually curse. And if he's that pissed, chances are he's vowed to bury me himself," Oregon said. The other Freelance Phantoms winced. It was at this moment they knew... _they done goofed up_.

/*/

After composing herself, Oregon decided to attempt to negotiate. She struck out alone for the looming bastion of anger that sat on the hill, as imposing as a crouching dragon, that was colloquially known as Red Base. "Halt!" Agent Maroon yelled out to her. "Agent Oregon, to what do I owe this displeasure?" he asked. Oregon swallowed the hurt Rick's venomous words caused her.

"I have come to negotiate," she said. Maroon scoffed, a knife making its way into his off hand. She had to admit, he'd taken to her style rather well.

"R~ight. Let me just grab my Dunce hat and party poppers," he remarked. Oregon blinked, confused. Why would he need those?

"Can we just get on with this? It's kind of important," she called up. The man scoffed again but turned his head slightly to the left.

"Hey Dex, Oregon's out front," he called. She thought she heard a muffled voice reply. "Roger that Orange," Maroon said with a nod before retreating, Orange taking his place. She winced, gritting her teeth. This wasn't going to be easy. Orange was a Big Brother, through and through. And he viewed the actions of one as the actions of the squad, meaning, he wouldn't care that it was Wash who pulled the trigger, she'd still shot his little brother. Before she could say more than why she was there, she got hit by a Warthog, Kai asking how her bumper tasted. ' _Huh, so this is how Wash felt,_ ' Oregon thought, hauling herself up onto the nose of the speeding vehicle, attempting to shoot Kai, aiming for the shoulder. Screaming, Kai stomped on the petals, sending Oregon flying into a pile of energy cores. ' _Oh skits_ ,' she thought before getting blown away by Red and his well-aimed shotgun. Groaning, she dragged herself away from Red Base. ' _This is so not my month.'_

"I take it negotiations didn't go well?" Florida asked drily.

"Negotiations didn't get past 'what do you want?' and 'Epsilon,'" Oregon said. "The Blues, along with Red, came to the 'rescue.' Just like I said they would."

"Hey, don't look at me!" Washington said, stepping back and holding up his hands when Oregon glared at him.

"Well, if you hadn't gone all _trigger happy_ this wouldn't have _happened_ , now _would it?!_ " the woman growled through clenched teeth. The younger Agent looked down, scuffing at the dirt as though he were a fresh recruit rather than a scarred and hardened Top Agent.

"I thought I said I was sorry," he muttered. Oregon blew out a frustrated breath.

"You did, and I'm taking out my frustrations on you. It isn't fair... even if it is your fault this happened," she said, supremely _not happy_.

"Gamma has just connected Dex with the one known as Doc," Delta reported. "It seems they are calling on an impartial third party to handle negotiations between us."

"Well. That's something at least... right?" North said, probably hoping to bring the mood back up. Oregon sighed.

"Yeah. It's something. I just hope Doc will be able to get the Sims to actually _accept_ negotiation as a viable option," she said.

"So... who's going to be our representative?" York asked.

"Me and Marley," Florida said firmly. Oregon was firmly over ruled when the other three men nodded.

"Negotiation was never my strong suit," Oregon said, hoping one of the men would step up.

"Yeah, but these guys know you and Florida best right? I mean, you personally trained half of them!" Washington pointed out. Oregon sighed, head drooping in defeat.

"Sometimes I hate how well you lot work together," she muttered darkly. "Fine! I'll do it, but don't blame me when this whole thing blows up in our faces." She could have sworn the men were grinning at her. "Idgits."

/*/

*Outside Doc's ship, Civil War having been unofficially officially declared*

"I told you this would blow up in our faces!" Oregon yelled, returning fire on Tucker, who had certainly improved since she'd last seen him.

"No, you told us not to blame you if it did!" York countered.

"In this case, Agent York, I believe Agent Oregon is correct. She did tell us this would happen should she be the one negotiating," Delta responded.

"Oh, like I would have been any better!" Washington shouted, ducking for cover. "I think the maroon one has it out for me!"

"Well, you _did_ shoot his partner," Oregon pointed out.

"Would you shut up about that?! Trying not to die here!" Wash yelled back. Oregon growled, left leg bleeding. She did a quick check of her team. It wasn't reassuring.

"Fall back!" she yelled. The men quickly followed her order and once it was clear they really were retreating, the BGC stopped firing on them.

"Huh. Mildly polite enemies. There's a new one," North remarked calmly. Oregon scoffed.

"They won't be staying that way. The longer this conflict lasts, the less friendly they'll get, you mark my words," she said. "Alright, York, sit down and let me take care of that leg, the rest of you go get cleaned up." Years of training kicked in and the Freelancers fell too. Oregon sighed as she let herself sink into the old, familiar routine. ' _For all my skill, for all my passion, this is the part I always hated about my job. Patching up my friends,_ ' she thought, cold metal and thin thread stitching together flushed flesh, warm blood coating her cool hands. The metallic, coppery smell assaulted her nose and invaded her throat. A dash of alcohol, antiseptic compounds, and the medley of smells became more cloying. ' _No wonder everyone thought my sense of smell was shot... or why the other three haven't returned yet. Wimps_.' And really, they kind of were. Cool headed and methodical on the battlefield they may be, but when it came to the clean up they were chocking down their own bile. ' _Oh hey, York's passed out,_ ' Oregon noted as she tied off the last thread. She sighed, taking in all the damage he'd accumulated during the brief but brutal battle. He was going to have a fair number of new scars to add to his collection.

/?/

A/N: So, hope that cleared up any lingering questions about why the whole things started. Next, a whole lot of craziness and 'well _that's_ convenient' lands the BGC in an odd combination of safety and 'don't kill me!'


	50. Episode 47

Disclaimer: Okay, seriously, I'm flattered you think I could come up with this all on my own, but I didn't. Props to Rooster Teeth.

 **Episode 47:** Follow That Church!

Agent Orange called for a ceasefire when the Freelancers left their range for near perfect accuracy and sighed. "That... was harder than anything I've ever since landing in Blood Gulch," he admitted. "And please don't tell me I was the only one unconsciously aiming for non-lethal areas." Agent Maroon sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah... I'd be all lined up for a headshot and then... my arm would twitch to the side, grazing their helmet rather than shattering their visor," he revealed. Red sighed. "You too huh?" Eagle shook his head.

"Losers, the lot of us," he remarked.

"Wasn't that what you said was going to save us, Dex? Wasn't our loser status what you told us was going to bring Freelancer to its knees?" Tucker asked. Dex sighed.

"Yeah but... even if I _call_ them Freelancers... I keep thinking... Marley. Flowdie. Ed. Jack. Wash," he said. The others sighed and nodded.

"I know what you mean," Church said, then shook himself upright. "Come on, let's take this to Sandtrap."

"That place? Why?" Rick asked.

"Because~ there is a highly defensible temple there that happens to have an alien death machine buried in it. It's kind of a no-brainer."

"Oh, no wonder you thought of it, Code Head," Tucker growled. Kai smacked him while her brother smacked Church.

"There was a _reason_ we buried that weapon, Church," Dex reminded him.

"That's no way to speak to your best friend!" Kai chided Tucker. Both males hung their heads and scuffed at the floor with the toe of their boots. Caboose looked around, completely lost while rick sighed, cradling his head in his left hand.

"You know what? You're all idiots," he said. "But, for the sake of buying time, let's go to Sandtrap. Who knows, maybe Epsilon will pull a Chi and choose a temporary host so we can _finally_ talk directly to the guy."

"I can fly you," Doc said, popping up out of nowhere.

"HAH! I wouldn't count on it!" Chi countered, popping up on Doc's shoulder. "His flight logs all indicate he barely knows how to set the _auto_ - _pilot!_ " While Doc gave Chi a look, Dex was snickering.

"I know I really shouldn't be one to point and laugh but... Kai did better than that with zero training! And she's a reckless driver!" he said. Doc turned his Look on the snickering Dex, giving the impression that he was pouting.

"Dex~!" Kai whined. Her brother waved her off and turned to the rest of the Crew.

"Pack your bags, stow your ammo, and say goodbye to your bases. Engines hot in ten," he said. No-one moved. "Move it, people!" Dex yelled, waving his arms at them. With a jerk, the Crew burst into motion. "These guys," Dex muttered, shaking his head.

"You are attempting to deceive yourself. Why?" Gary asked even though he refrained from generating a hologram.

" _So now you're acting as an internal lie detector?_ " Dex asked him.

"I am the fragment of deceit," Gary pointed out, causing his host to roll his eyes.

" _I know that, Gary. Personally, I'm just glad you stopped with the knock-knock jokes._ "

"Yes. I believe they were growing old."

" _Who's lying now?_ " Dex thought with a hidden smirk as he continued to pack his weapons.

"Sarcasm. I do not believe I like it," Gary remarked before fading into background noise. Dex chuckled and moved on to ammo.

/*/

Doc wasn't sure what made him offer his ship to the BGC, though he had a feeling Chi had something to do with it. The A.I. seemed to have something of a soft spot for the colorful group. Banished to the back seat of his own ship, Doc watched the motley crew. There was still a clear color division, but Kai seemed to be the bridge between the two teams. Another thing he noticed was the changed dynamics of Red Team. When he'd first met them, Grif had been regarded with distaste, if not flat out hate. Sure he could understand soldiers being upset with someone _forgetting to bring extra ammunition to a battle_ , but there was underlying meanness. At least from the Sargent. Now, even the _Sargent_ was listening to Grif! Of course, Grif being _Agent Orange_ made it a bit more understandable but... all of Red Team was a part of Project Red! "Staring is rude ya know," the main focus of his confusion remarked as he sat down beside Doc.

"I'm just... a little confused. When I met you guys..."

"Ah," Dex said, cutting the medic off. "The dynamic is throwing you off huh? Don't worry, you'll get used to it." Doc sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"HA! He'll need more than your reassurance to get over this one!" Chi said, popping up. Dex gave him a Look.

"You... are something else entirely, ya know that?" he told the A.I. "Four months we had you. Four months we tried to get you to talk. Four _months_ you've been unresponsive and then in comes Doc and suddenly you're Chatty Chris. What gives man?" Chi chuckled, crossing his arms and leaning against Doc's neck.

"I like this guy. He's _normal_ ," he told Dex. Rick barked a laugh.

"Normal! What do you know about normal, _Church_?! Besides," he said, coming over to sling an arm over the medic's shoulder, "this guy is as cracked as we are! He's just better at hiding it." Chi appeared to consider that... then shrugged and managed to grin through his simulated helmet.

"Well then, I like his very special brand of crazy," the A.I. said. Doc moaned, helmet dropping into his gauntlets.

"Would you two _please_ stop talking like I'm not here? Please?" That was when one of the chips Rick was carrying activated and a _maroon_ hologram appeared.

"It would appear that Medical Officer DeFre..." he began before Rick pulled off a rather effective glare.

"Cut the formal lingo and just call him Doc," the hacker deadpanned.

"Very well. I think Doc has developed a complex," the A.I. informed the Pelican.

"Over _what?_ " Rick asked.

"Simple. Being ignored, forgotten, or abandoned," came the calm answer.

"Okay, I get that all these Freelancer A.I. are fragments of the Alpha but... dude... I thought you were only allowed _one_ red," Tucker said. Church shook his head.

"Marley had multiple Blues, a few Greens, and far more Reds than I care to consider," he said. "Maroon is _far_ from impossible. So, what do you represent?"

"Would you believe Compassion?" the A.I. asked. Multiple heads canted at that.

"Maybe... but then again..." Tucker said.

"When did the Director ever have Compassion?" Rick asked.

"Well, that's what I am. The Alpha's Compassion," the maroon hologram said with a shrug. "Or maybe it was Empathy?"

"Eh, whatever it is, welcome aboard. Now, would you kindly tell me why you've chosen to activate?" Rick said, ending the pointless debate and causing most of the occupants of the Pelican to shudder at his coldly polite tone.

"Certainly. I have been watching you, learning from you, and I have decided that I would like to be useful again. Thus, I chose the Agent most suited to make proper use of my functions," the A.I. said.

"Right. And who would that be?" Rick asked.

"You, Agent Maroon."

"Your designation?" Rick asked.

"Lambda," the A.I. replied. The Agent nodded and inserted the chip into his helmet. The hologram flickered for a moment before solidifying. "This is odd," Lambda said, quickly adjusting to being in contact with another mind. Rick snorted, having a bit more trouble adjusting himself to the feeling of another mind against his.

"You're telling me. It's like an itch in the back of your brain," he said. Doc snorted.

"A fairly accurate description," he muttered. Dex sighed.

"Can we all just pipe down and enjoy the flight? Please?" he asked. The Pelican fell into somber silence as the severity of... oh who am I kidding? No-one paid any attention to Dex's request and spent the whole of the flight arguing about what Lambda's nickname was going to be while Church and Eagle had a separate conversation about whether or not the other A.I. might, for lack of a better term, evolve due to being paired with a human and given an example by the aforementioned Church.

/*/

"The base is empty," North said.

"Thank~ you, Captain Obvious!" snapped Washington.

"Hey, guys?"

"Since when were you Carolina?"

"Guys?"

"I am _not_ Carolina!"

"Oi."

"Really? Maybe you're channeling her."

"I'm not channeling her!"

"You-who!"

"You sure? Because you're acting _a lot_ like her right now."

" _Shut up and listen to me!_ " The two bickering Agents turned to a glowering, at least they thought she was glowering, Oregon. "Thank you. I might know where they went." North and Washington continued to stare at her while York sighed and Florida shook his head.

"Your dreams?" he asked.

"Better," she said, pointing to the base camera. "Security footage."

"Isn't that just visual?" York asked.

"How's that going to help? They never take their helmets off!" North declared. Oregon gave them a bewildered look.

"Sure they do. Gotta eat don't they?"

"I've eaten with my helmet on," Washington remarked. York laughed.

"Oh-ho man! How could I forget! D's first prank. Ah~! I was so proud," he said. North snorted.

"Yeah, only after you figured out it was a prank," he said.

"Oh get over yourselves!" Oregon groaned. "Two of the best Freelancers in the galaxy and you're arguing about _pranks!_ " she muttered, shaking her head. "They've taken Doc's Pelican to Sandtrap, hoping that the area will..."

"Will what?" Florida asked, mildly worried about what could have caused her to trail off like she had. Oregon swallowed heavily, her visor going clear so they could see her pale face.

"Will give them the proper mindset."

"Proper mindset?" Florida asked, seriously worried now. Oregon nodded.

"A soldier's 'us or them' mindset," she confirmed. "They went to Sandtrap... hoping to make it our tomb."

/*/

Rick sighed while Lambda, the A.I. who had for some odd reason known only to him attached himself to said Agent, regarded the assembled 'soldiers' with a feeling of detached amusement. "Okay, so we've agreed," Red said, looking around the Pelican. "Lambda's nickname is... Bob." Rick groaned and got a stronger feeling of amusement from the A.I.

"Bob?" he asked, having tuned out the argument after the third repetition of 'we are not calling him Dr. Phil!'

"Bob. Short, sweet, rolls off the tongue, and is much faster to yell than 'lambda,'" Red answered with a firm nod. Everyone else was silent, though whether or not that was because they agreed or had simply been out-argued was up for debate. Rick had zoned out, remember?

"I don't like it," Rick said, crossing his arms.

"I do," Lambda, now known as Bob, remarked.

"Larry," Dex called and Rick felt Lambda, who might be known as Larry, perk up. Maroon smirked.

"Better."

"It's just as long as Lambda!" Red protested.

"No, it's not. Larry is one syllable while Lambda is two. Larry is five letters while Lambda is six. Therefore, Larry is shorter than Lambda. Any other arguments? Oh yeah! And Larry is more common than Lambda, as well as keeping the first two letters. Again, any other arguments?" Dex said, overriding Red's protest. Rick whistled.

"And you said negotiation wasn't your strong suit," he remarked.

"We have arrived," Gary said, appearing in the middle of the passenger area. "Prepare for landing. Also, it is good to see you again, brothers."

"Hey Gary," Chi and Larry drawled together. Doc and Rick shared a look.

"Do you get the feeling they'd be fist-bumping if they could?" Rick asked.

"I'm not the only one. Huh, what a weird concept," the medic drawled. The Agent blinked.

"Wait... what?"

"Hey! That's _my_ gag!" Kai protested just as the Pelican landed.

"We have touchdown, repeat, we have touchdown! Thank you for flying Air Grif now everyone grab your junk and get out," Dex called from the cockpit, already grabbing his main duffel and preparing to tromp out into the desert sands. The other Agents wasted no time grabbing their own duffel bags and vacating the ship. The Blues took a bit longer while Doc just sat there wondering if the world was ever going to make sense again... until Caboose's duffel caught him in the temple and he was reminded that for him, the world had made very little sense after the age of ten when it was tilted sideways by the departure of his parents. Not wanting to go down that particularly dark rabbit hole, the medic grabbed what he thought he might need and also left the ship he honestly had no clue how he'd obtained. Hooray for fuzzy logic and gaping plot holes! Wait... where were we? Oh right, setting up a base in Sandtrap. Of course, these were the Reds and Blues of Project Freelancer, even if they'd been given more military training. Not to mention the fact that they seemed to have an almost supernatural ability to make the impossible happen. Like bringing someone back from a bullet to the head with CPR. So, of course, just as they were getting ready for a truly epic and ultimately futile Last Stand, and yes the capital letters were needed, yet _another_ A.I. decided to spontaneously active. This time... it was Epsilon. And being the ornery A.I. that he was, being a jumbled collection of memories linked to the Director _and_ his big brother Alpha, Epsilon didn't choose a soldier to pair with. No. He possessed... a mongoose.

"Really?" Red asked, quirking and unseen eyebrow at the A.I. possessed vehicle.

"Yes. Now come on, I remembered something," the 'mongoose' droned, sounding almost exactly like Alpha.

"Well, you heard my somewhat unstable and mentally disturbed brother. Let's go," said A.I. declared, already jogging after the mongoose. Red shook his head.

"I'm following a mongoose possessed by an insane A.I. based off of a grief-stricken mad scientist," he muttered. Dex chuckled.

"Must be Tuesday!"

"Right... well. I'm not going to be able to say it possibly ever again so... Follow that Church!" Eagle declared, pointing after the two departing A.I. possessed mechanical constructs.

"Which one, the robot or the motorcycle?" Rick asked, already trudging off through the sand.

"Yes," Eagle said with a nod, headed for a jeep. Noticing Eagle's focus, Dex grinned and dashed ahead.

"You may be indulging in your fascination with The Pronoun Game, but you pointed me toward this piece of hardware, so I'll let it slide," the man, who really had far too many 'specialties' to be normal, said as he cranked up the miraculously operational Warthog. "Alright people! Fall in and let's follow those Churches!"

/*/

Epsilon was as confused as an A.I. could get. He had thought he killed himself, unfortunately driving his then-host Agent Washington insane with the backlash. Then he heard Washington talking with another about... something. He was too wrapped up in his thoughts of 'what the heck?' to understand much of what their flapping gums were saying. Then, he was being dragged through the compound with people screaming and the two Agents, they had to be agents right, arguing before the woman thrust him into someone's arms and...

Point was, he was 'alive' when he thought he was supposed to be 'dead' and that wasn't right. So, he had spent the next couple of months coming to terms with that. A new constant in his 'life' was a man. He seemed to want to 'reactivate' Epsilon but didn't want to force it. Soft words and gentle coaxing had Epsilon paying more attention to the 'outside world' but there was no reason to show himself.

Then the Civil War broke out and his brothers(?) started popping up and his memories calmed down to the point where he could actually process them. He didn't want another host Agent, so when an empty Mongoose showed up, he took it. "Really?" the red Agent(wasn't his name Red?) asked.

"Yes. Now come on, I remembered something," Epsilon replied as he drove off. It wasn't just that he remembered. No. It was more an... an _itch_. Something that he just _had_ to investigate, to see. And a name. A woman's name, echoing with sorrow, that drove him on. Allison.

"So... can I get a ride?" a voice that sounded much like his own asked. It was the robot, Church.

"Why are you familiar?" Epsilon asked.

"I'm Alpha Church of Blue Team. You could say I'm your... hum. Would it be 'father' or 'brother' if you were made from a fragmented portion of my code?" Church answered. Epsilon's code faltered, the equivalent of a blink.

"You're... the Alpha?" he asked, fragments of memories he wasn't sure were his, the Director's, or Washington's flashing through what passed as his mind.

"Yeah. So, about that ride?" Alpha replied.

"No." Alpha scoffed, a rather human sound coming from a robot.

"Stingy."

"I'm not stingy!"

"Yes, you are. You're a _mongoose!_ Come on, we can go faster that way~!"

"Still no."

"Man. The guys were right, I _am_ a jerk! Huh, gonna have to work on that." Epsilon fell into a sulk before the sound of yelling, which nearly drowned out the sound of _two_ engines, caught his attention.

"What the?" he asked. Alpha chuckled.

"Dex must be driving," he remarked. Epsilon was fairly sure that had he been capable of it, Alpha would have been grinning.

"I think I might have underestimated how crazy these idiots are," Epsilon muttered. Alpha laughed outright at that.

"Yeah, they have a habit of hiding just how messed up they are until you really need them for something. And even then, they can still surprise you," the older A.I. remarked brightly.

"You know you're back in range, right?" Rick's dry voice remarked in Alpha's ear. The 'possessed' vehicle beside him twitched before quickly correcting its path.

"Oh. I know," Alpha chirped back.

"I should cut you off, Church. Maybe even run you over. It'd be easy. Just _o~n~e~_ little twitch of the wheel and _wham!_ Bye, Bye Churchie~!" Dex sang. Metaphysical shivers ran down the metaphorical backs of the A.I.

"Please, for the love of Krispy Kreme, don't _ever_ talk like that again," Alpha asked.

"Seconded," Epsilon agreed.

"Heh. Twofer," Eagle chuckled.

"I couldn't agree more, my good Eagle," Dex replied. Alpha groaned.

"I don't need to listen to this," he groaned, then proceeded to use his A.I. magic(remember, it's just science we can't explain~!) to block transmissions from any outside source.

Excluding his fellow A.I.

But including Gary.

Fragging _Gary_...

/*/

Her eye twitched.

The men(boys) looked around.

"It's empty."

Another twitch.

"Thank~ you, Captain Obvious!" snapped Wash.

"Hey, guys?"

"Since when were you Carolina?"

"Guys?"

"I am _not_ Carolina!"

"Oi."

"Really? Maybe you're channeling her."

"I'm not channeling her!"

"You-who!"

"You sure? Because you're acting _a lot_ like her right now."

"OI! BROKEN RECORDS! SHUT UP!" Flowdie finally bellowed, glaring at Agents North Dakota and Washington. "Honestly, we did this whole bit at the _last_ base. There is absolutely no reason for you to rehash it now!"

"Thank you, Florida," Marley said in her terrifyingly calm voice. The men all made sure to keep her scalpel hand in sight. "Now, there are two sets of tires tracks and the prints of a single pair of boots headed that-a-way. Onwards and upwards, my friends!"

/*/

"My reference sense is tingling," Chi randomly piped up as the BGC plus Doc walked through what looked like a nature-reclaimed base. Doc gave him a sideways look.

"Really?" he asked, halfway curious.

"Yeah. What, you don't have one of those?" Chi responded.

"Hey, shut up would ya? I'm trying to focus here," Alpha Church said, examining a wall.

"Dude, it's a _wall,_ " Eagle drawled, as eloquent as always.

"It's a really great wall," Caboose stated in his usual 'I'm-trying-to-be-nice-and-understanding-but-I-haven't-got-a-clue-what's-going-on' way.

"Hello. This is a private facility. Visitors are not welcome. Please leave immediately or we will be forced to take lethal measures to ensure the safety of our property," an eerily familiar voice said from behind them. Everyone turned to see a computer screen in the large tree.

'It's a tree,' Epsilon thought. 'A talking _tree!_ '

"That is great," Caboose offered.

"You have thirty seconds to comply or die. Have a nice day!" the talking tree told the gathered soldiers.

"Sheila? Is that you?" Caboose asked. Alpha snorted.

"Yes, Caboose. The lady in the tree is the same lady who was in our tank, who got left at Blood Gulch. And possibly got blown up. Again," he said.

"Oh my, the Director. I am so sorry, I did not recognize you, Sir. It has been such a long times since you have visited. You look very different," the Tree said, stopping what looked like a countdown. Alpha chuckled wryly.

"Yeah, that happens when you copy your brainwaves into a computer matrix and then set the resultant A.I. loose on the world," he remarked. The Tree did not seem to catch his sarcasm.

"How may I assist you today?" she asked.

"Sheila~! Come back to me~! I made you a muffin~!" Caboose lamented.

"Who?" the Tree asked.

"Sheila, our old training A.I. Yeah, Caboose here isn't the sharpest tool in the shed so he fell in love with the first 'female' to be nice to him. Ignoring him, would you open the door for us?" Alpha asked. "And introduce yourself while you're at it would you?"

"Ignoring Caboose. Of course Director," the Tree said, the wall in front of them splitting and moving aside, proving itself to be a hidden door. "I am the Freelancer Integrated Logistics and Security System. You may call me Phyllis. It is a pleasure to meet you. Please watch your step."

"Kinda spooky in there," Caboose commented. Dex snorted and turned to Alpha.

"Phyllis listens to you, Church. Ask for some lights. Maybe a guided tour," he said. Picking up on the new arrivals, Phyllis decided to be a good hostess and say,

"Director, since you have new visitors with you today, would you like me to run the tutorial program?" Caboose nodded violently.

"Yes, always run that. No seriously, you need to run that. No it's... really you need to, you need to turn that," he babbled before Red growled and hit him over the head with Eagle's A.I. Whacking ThingTM. Honestly, they couldn't tell if it was a training rifle, part of a busted Warthog, a metal stick, or a cudgel by this point. All they knew was that it was metal and made Church react with pain.

"Thank you, Red," Church sighed. If he'd been human, he would have been rubbing his temples. "Phyllis, please run the tutorial program."

"Oh, thank..." Caboose sighed before Red Whacked him again. A chime sounded and Phyllis began a running commentary as the group ventured into the shadowy Freelancer facility.

"Hello, and welcome to the Freelancer Off-Site Storage Facility. Project Freelancer is a state of the art scientific endeavor with one goal in mind: to ensure the security of humanity in a harsh and violent Galaxy. This bunker has been constructed to guarantee the continued operation of our program, in the event of a primary facility loss," she said.

"Like what we did to Command," Rick said with a grin. The others; minus Epsilon, Tucker, and Caboose, snickered.

"This storage area archives all the components of our Freelancer simulation bases. These outposts test our agents in realistic training scenarios," Phyllis continued as they walked into the Gadgets-R-Us for Red/Blue Base.

"Yeah, we're on the Blue Team!" Caboose said happily, throwing an arm around Church and the other around Tucker.

"I am sorry, I do not recognize that term. Our simulation outposts are categorized into [Red] and [entry missing]. Hmm, it seems as though I have a corrupted database. I will correct that when I have more time," Phyllis remarked.

"Uh eh- there's our old stuff! And there's a teleporter! Man, Tucker hates those," Caboose said, apparently missing what Phyllis had said.

"Oi! Don't speak for me!" Tucker said.

"Don't interrupt. Come on. This way," Epsilon said, rolling on. Somewhere in the back of their consciences the soldiers and A.I. they wondered why Phyllis hadn't said anything about the mongoose rolling through the facility. Shrugging and really having nothing better to do, the others followed.

"When the equipment is not being used, it is stored here until it can be re-purposed for... oh. I guess we are moving on," Phyllis remarked, noticing that the guests weren't sticking around for the whole spiel.

"Well, what's this?" Caboose asked as they came to a stop in front of a large door at the end of a hallway.

"I am sorry, this area is restricted. Only the Director himself may access this entry. I am sure you understand. Te nature of our experiments is such that..." Phyllis said, trying to hold the rest back. Epsilon was having none of that.

"Open it," he growled. Phyllis faltered, hearing _two_ Directors.

"Yes, please open it up, Phyllis," Alpha added, a little curious about what was behind the door.

"Are you..."

"OPEN IT!" Epsilon and Alpha yelled together.

"Alright. Unlocking," Phyllis said after a beat. "Would you like me to archive your... personal project?"

"Let's see everything," the Churches said, all together and all quite curious as to what Epsilon had remembered. Too bad they forgot about what happened to that poor cat...

/*/

"Are you sure about this?" Wash asked warily.

"Yes," Flowdie said.

"But this is... !" Jack tried to protest.

"I. Am. Sure," Marley growled.

"The Hornets... !" Ed began.

"I said, I'm sure," Marley said, cutting him off with a glare.

"This is madness!" Wash declared.

"Madness? This is Oregon!" Flowdie said.

"Exactly," the other three deadpanned. Marley sighed.

"You're all so mean~!" she complained, driving ahead with her plan.

"... We're either going to totally _terrify_ and _dominate_ the BGC in a totally awesome way... or die horribly," Jack decided, getting dragged along on the plan. Marley smirked. Things were going according to plan. The A.I. were on the move, the UNSC was on _their_ trail rather than the ex-Freelancers, and she was taking care of a trouble spot on the way. Of course, the others thought they were still fighting the BGC. Ah~! Such unobservant idiots! She'd played them like she'd planned to play the BGC... before they wormed their way into her heart like those crazy friends you just couldn't get rid of.

/*/

The BGC didn't know what they were expecting to be behind the door. This... wasn't it. "Ya know, I'm not even surprised," Rick drawled, entirely unimpressed.

"Church-bots. Why did it have to be _Church-bots_?" Dex asked.

"Reference Sense! My Reference Sense is tingling!" Chi piped up. Doc mentally forced him back into storage, surprising the little A.I., and continued to stare at the sea of blue armored robots.

"It's... THE BLUE ARMY!" Red bellowed.

"Oh my gosh! Look at all the yous! You're everywhere! Why this is like a Best Friend Store, and this is the greatest store ever! You can have your body back! Now which one to you want? I wanna buy one," Caboose remarked, talking to Epsilon, who was still a Mongoose.

"That's not what I'm looking for," Epsilon said, rolling forward toward a human sized cryo chamber. "I'm looking... for this," he said. To a man and woman, the BGC paled.

"Oh," Caboose said softly.

"Who is that?" Doc asked.

"Someone who should not be woken up," Alpha said, shaking his head.

/*/

A/N: Semi-cliffhanger! But ya'll know what's in the chamber anyway so... yeah. Next up: Tex Fight, Revelations, Pelican Crash Course, and of course Phantom Reconciliation! Well... maybe. Don't know if it'll all be one Episode.


	51. Episode 48

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB. Or anything else referenced.

Claimer: I do own Marley. Please don't steal her.

 **Episode 48:** Oh Skits, It's Her!

Marley groaned as the boys argued over where the BGC might have gone and how they'd follow them. "My life," she moaned, shaking her head as her companions came to blows. "My life."

"Indeed," Delta remarked, deciding to jump to the calmer member of the team.

"Is this really how you view the human race?"

"I will admit, this is the most childish I have seen my host behave."

"GUYS! Come on! Can we at least call 479er?" Flowdie finally yelled, fed up with them.

"Excellent idea!" Marley declared and called the pilot.

/*/

The BGC backed up slowly, leaving Epsilon alone with the dark figure in the cryo-chamber. "You think he'll be okay?" Rick asked as the sound of destruction rang in the short hallway.

"Who knows," Dex shrugged, eying the door and wondering if it would hold up against _her_ when she was in a bad mood.

"Just hold still. No, don't go-" Epsilon's voice said, just before something shattered.

"I sense things are not going well," Phyllis remarked.

"Yes, please just keep the door shut, thank you that's fine," Caboose rambled, sounding rather close to being afraid. The Reds shared looks while Tucker turned to his teammate in surprise. Caboose understood the danger they were currently in?

"I am sorry, but if the Director requests the door to be opened, I am required to comply," Phyllis said. If Eagle didn't know better, he'd say the A.I. was smug.

"Just keep the door shut!" Caboose barked, startling the rest of the BGC. Since when did _Caboose_ bark at people? Specifically 'Sheila?'

"Dude, who are you and what have you done with Caboose?" Dex asked, joining Tucker in staring at the Blue in shock. Rick was more preoccupied with Red and Kai who were placing bets. Doc was trying to stop them while Eagle was holding the money.

"Stop! Don't move, don't move, don't-" Epsilon yelped behind the door. Eagle gave it a Look.

"He _does_ know that's not going to happen, right?" he asked, incredulously, as the sounds of yet more destruction came from the door.

"Hrhhh."

"I do not think he cares," Caboose remarked.

"Stop!" Epsilon yelped. Red shook his head.

"She's not going to listen," Rick stated.

"No. No, she's not," Tucker agreed.

"Should we really be standing this close to the door?" Kai asked.

"You make an excellent point, sister," Dex said, slowly backing up.

"Uh, I wouldn't pick that up, it looks expensive..." Epsilon cajoled. _She_ didn't give a flying cue ball and broke whatever the 'expensive thing' was. Likely by throwing it at Epsilon.

"Should we be worried?" Rick asked.

"What was your first clue?" Dex countered, bringing his gun up. While still backing away slowly.

"Guys? _W_ _ho is that?!_ " Doc asked.

"In here?" Caboose asked, the picture of innocence. "Oh. No-one is in here. Um, well this probably isn't even a door, either. It's, probably," he continued, floundering, before the door itself shuddered with a bang, as though something large and heavy had been thrown at it was significant force. Dex mentally stopped wondering if the door would hold against _her_ and began wondering just when it would fail.

"What the heck was that?" Red asked, joining Dex in backing away.

"Oh, that was probably something important getting smashed against the door," Caboose answered.

"Yeah... guys? I say we cut our losses and get out of here," Dex said, halting to wait for his comrades. Another bang and the door bent outwards from the force.

"I don't hear Epsilon," Eagle mentioned, joining Dex and pointing his rifle at the door. A loud 'gong' sounded as part of the lock was pushed out of the door.

"I'm just going to walk over this way, now, excuse me. Yes, thank you. Pardon me, coming through," Caboose said, self-preservation instincts kicking in, as he slowly began to walk away from the door, ignoring the rest of the BGC. And Doc. The door continued to be abused.

"Guys... we should probably, you know, _move!_ " Dex barked over the intensifying noise, beginning a mental count.

"I'm gone," Eagle said, running for the shipping containers. Somehow, he managed to get on top of one and trained his rifle on the short tunnel leading to the robot chamber. No way was he stay in the line of fire!

"Scatter!" Rick yelped, running for the control booth. Red just moved further back while Dex retreated behind cover as the door continued to bend and flex before it was blasted off it's hinges and flew into the main storage area.

"Door's open," Dex quipped. ' _Forty-five seconds. Man, she's a beast_ ,' he added mentally.

"Now's not the time for your sarcasm, Dex!" Rick barked, still a short run from the control booth. Kai, Tucker, and Doc were standing around like idiots, unsure of how to prepare themselves for what they were about to face. Out of the fog came a menacing figure in black armor. She pounded her fist into her hand, craning her neck as though trying to crack it.

"Okay. So who's first?" Agent Texas asked.

/*/

"Alarm, security breech, level Alpha. All personnel report for duty. This is not a drill," Phyllis droned.

"What do you know! There's a level of breaching security named after you, Alpha!" Dex couldn't help but tell Church with a smirk.

"Not now!" the robot yelled, running as fast as he could to hide. By this point, Rick had managed to join Caboose in the control room.

"Sheila, we have to help them," Caboose said. Rick nodded, even though he knew the blue was talking to the A.I.

"Phyllis, is there anything we can do to help stop Agent Texas?" he asked, eyes already scanning the board and looking for anything that might be useful.

"Stop Agent Texas? Oh no, absolutely not. We should never interfere with an ongoing battlefield simulation test. Our job is to observe and document," Phyllis answered. Rick frowned at the board.

"Well that's insensitive," he muttered while Caboose chose to voice his displeasure a bit more... dramatically.

" _But she'll kill them!_ "

"Oh, that would be wonderful! What a successful test," Phyllis said cheerily, clearly deciding that Caboose's comment was worth responding to in spite of Alpha's order to ignore him. Meanwhile, back on the floor; Red, Dex, and Church were running for a more defensible position.

"We need to keep moving men. Come on, double-time. Heck, I'd settle for single-time!" Red barked. Dex paused for a moment, leaning against a partition to check his ammo.

"Maybe we should just pick a spot and fight. I've got this funny feeling that if we don't, she'll start picking us off one by..." he began only for a black gauntlet to punch through the wall next to him. "One," Dex remarked in resignation as he felt the hand tighten around his neck just before his head connected with the wall.

This was taken as the signal to begin the battle.

On one side, Agent Texas. On the other? Everyone else in the building.

Minus Phyllis. She just observed and documented, as was her directive.

Tex 'kicked' things off by kicking the wall she'd slammed Dex into across the hall and into another container before rushing Red. He tried to shoot her, but she dodged his shotgun blast and gave him a hard uppercut to the gut. "OW!" he huffed, not having the breath for anything else. Incidentally, Tex hit him so hard, he stumbled into Church. Not giving them a moment to think, Tex rammed into the two of them with enough force to bowl over two partitions and send them flying through a pyramid of metal barrels(Rick decided not to think about whether or not those barrels were _full_ or not). Dex, having made it to his feet, ran out of the mess and shook his head.

"Epps should have listened to Al and _not_ have woken up the she-devil," he muttered before running off to find something that _might_ actually slow her down long enough for him to talk to her. Tex wasn't _completely_ unreasonable after all. Meanwhile, said Freelancer was stalking Red and Church, no-where near through pummeling them. "Hey, Rick!" Dex yelled once he could see the command booth.

"Yeah?" the maroon soldier asked, not bothering to look up from the controls he was frantically scanning with his eyes.

"Where are the rocket launchers?" Dex called, not offended in the slightest. Maroon had always worked best with computers and rarely looked away from them on the job. Not even to shoot the idiots who got too close. Orange had always been impressed with that.

"How does he know there are boomsticks?" Caboose asked. Rick shook his head and deftly manipulated the controls to dump a load of rocket launchers in front of Dex.

"Thank you~!" Dex sang, picking one up and running back toward Red and Church.

"You're welcome!" Rick sang back, complete with a jaunty little wave. Dex chuckled and kept running, eventually crossing paths with Tucker.

"Hey!" the cyan soldier said, surprised to run into the red.

"Hey yourself, Tucker," Dex said, already scanning the area for Tex. "Say, you know how to use that?" Dex asked when he didn't see her, nodding toward Tucker's sword.

"Sure I do! What's to know about 'swish swish stab?' It's a sword, not a fighter jet," Tucker answered, tone conveying the thought that Dex was a total idiot. The orange armored soldier did his best to transmit his blank look through his helmet.

"Right. Just come help me," he said, running past the cyan soldier.

/*/

Back at ground zero with Red and Church, Church ducked under a barrel which sailed right into Red's head. The impact threw off the Agent's aim, making the burst go wide as Tex vaulted an overturned barrel. She landed in a roll and, dodging Church's poorly aimed bullets, grabbed the two by the neck and smashing their heads together. Red got socked _just_ above the belt before Church got hit just under the armpit. Tex then used the force of a pivot side-kick to Red's chin, a rather impressive strike, to line herself up to lay into Church. First, she knocked the ineffective gun out of his hands then elbowed his torso before she went for the head. Several strikes later, Tex decided she didn't like seeing him standing and delivered a heavy blow to the top of his helmet. A knee to his chest lifted Church off the floor, allowing Tex to grab his throat and slam him into the ground. Once he was there, she prepared to hit _below_ the belt. Church managed to wiggle so she hit the relatively softer target of his stomach area before her fist was brought down, but that seemed to aggravate Tex even more because she kicked him across the way, knocking a teleporter frame down onto him. He barely registered Tex beating up Red as he sailed past. Suffice to say, Red was down when Church stopped bouncing. "Sometimes, I hate my life," Church moaned as he recognized the boots headed his way. He heard a grenade fly overhead and then an annoying, familiar, voice shouting out and grabbing Tex's attention.

"Remember me?" Tucker asked, lighting his sword.

"Tucker you idiot!" Church muttered, though he was glad of the distraction. Taking full advantage of it, Church scuttled away in the hopes of finding a good sniper's nest. Or, you know, _hiding place_. Tex squared off against Tucker while Dex lined up a shot with the rocket launcher he'd gotten from Rick via crate drop. Just as things were looking good, a whole crate dropped between Tucker and Tex.

"CABOOSE YOU FUDGING IDIOT MUDBRAINED BLUETARD!" Rick's enraged bellow echoed through the storage area. Everyone; and I mean _everyone_ , paused at the sound.

"Ho man, Rick's _pissed!_ " Dex whispered into the comms.

"NO, I WILL NOT FORGIVE YOU FOR _ORANGE JUICE!_ " Rick bellowed. Red looked toward Church, who had stopped moving as soon as the crate dropped.

"Does he really try to bribe people with orange juice?" he asked. Church nodded solemnly.

"It's as sacred to him as chocolate is to a woman," he said. Kai whistled, having heard over the comms.

"Caboose~! You messed up my plan with Dex~!" Tucker complained. Dex sighed, but took the shot anyway. Tex dodged of course, being the badass Freelancer that she was. Grabbing a teleporter, Tex threw it at the Red Agent. Taking a semi-wild shot, Dex only made things worse for himself by shooting _into the teleporter_. The rocket then flew out of the _other_ teleporter, impacted below his feet, and threw him into the teleporter Tex had thrown which then sent him flying directly into a throat grab by Tex. After grabbing the orange-armored soldier, Tex threw him into Tucker's face, knocking them both down.

"HEY! No-body beats up my brother!" Kai yelled, firing a burst at the only other female in the facility. Tex dodged that too and threw a barrel at the younger woman, forcing her back into hiding.

/*/

"Can we use turrets on her or some explodey firey thing?" Caboose asked.

"Oh no, that would be outside..." Phyllis began, only to be cut off by Rick slamming Caboose's head into the control board.

"Just shut up and let me handle this," he huffed as the Blue stumbled back. "Now, watch and learn from a master." Unfortunately, there wasn't a whole lot to work with. "Darn you, Epsilon! You just _had_ to wake her up, didn't you?" the Red grumbled, eyes darting around frantically as his mind worked furiously to find a way to use the facility itself against Tex. As it was a _storage_ facility, there wasn't much and the security system didn't have guns in their current position. "And where is Eagle?!"

"She's moving too fast, I can't get a bead on her," the sniper replied.

"Well, where are you?!"

"One of the hanging crates." Rick blinked and shared a look with Caboose.

"How...?"

"Please don't ask," Eagle moaned. Rick shrugged and went back to trying to find a way to use the system against the freelancer.

"Here's hoping I don't drop you," the tech muttered.

"Amen," Eagle intoned.

/*/

Meanwhile, Tucker, Dex, Red, and Church had regrouped. "What do we do?" Tucker groaned.

"I don't know, I've never hit a girl before in my life," Red answered.

"Ha! I know for a fact you've hit Marley," Dex countered.

"She doesn't count," Red insisted.

"I'll second that," Church muttered. Shaking off his disorientation, Dex noticed his rocket launcher had been ripped from his hands when he went for an unplanned flight and so cast about for the nearest weapon. What he found left much to be desired. "A cone?" Church asked, bewildered.

"Yeah, but look who's using it," Rick commented through the comms while simultaneously trying to work out a way to get them a weapons drop. Dex shouldn't have to resort to a _traffic cone_ of all things!

"Point," Church acknowledged as Tex stalked closer before breaking out into a jog. She got inside Red's range and caught his arm before turning and punching Tucker, using the momentum to flip Red over and out of the way while ripping his shotgun out of his hands. Using that, she clubbed Tucker over the head before turning toward Church. Dodging a few wild bursts from his gun, she side kicked him through a teleporter which sent him flying above a shipping crate, yelling. Tex turned to Dex... who was suddenly hit in the back by a yelling Church. Dex, wielding only a traffic cone, was sent stumbling toward Tex. Her boot caught Dex between the legs with enough force to lift him off his feet before slamming him back onto the ground, boot firmly on his manhood and Red's shotgun pointed at his face. Knowing it was empty, because he kept a careful tally of the ammunition used by Red(usually in an effort not to annoy him too much while he still had shot left), Dex didn't move. As the shotgun clicked, alerting Tex to the lack of ammo and distracting her for a brief moment, Dex brought his cone up and hit her in the head. Naturally, it didn't do much, but it effected her sensors and gave him an opening to sweep her feet out from under her. Pinning the mad woman to the floor, Dex pulled out his knife and held it to her throat.

"Stop this, please," he almost ordered, leaning forward to put pressure on the blade. Tex didn't say anything, she just bucked him off and resumed beating the rest of the BGC. Dex flew into Church, knocking him back, while Red watched.

"You idiots, let me show you how it's done," he arrogantly declared, just before Tex punched him clean over to the two moaning soldiers.

"Well done, Red," Dex snarked, looking around for his knife. "Dang it, that's the _third time_ this fight I've let my weapon out of my grip. Not cool," he growled while Red grumbled,

"Aw shut up," embarrassed that he'd let himself be distracted like that. He was better than this!

"Hey guys, look up there," Church muttered, drawing their attention, and a groggy Tucker's as well, to a large crate above Tex... and Tucker.

"Hey Rick, think you can help a Blue out?" Tucker asked, hoping his on-the-fly plan would work.

"Dropping in three," Rick answered. "Two." Tucker jumped slightly, rolling out from under the crate, just as Rick said, "One," and dropped the crate. Not noticing how Tex had managed to catch the crate, Tucker let out a small laugh.

"I can't believe that worked!" he exclaimed. Tex began to stand back up... crate in her hands. "Oh Fudge, it didn't work," Tucker corrected himself.

/*/

"I knew that would not work. Agent Tex is a bit of a badass," Phyllis quipped in the control booth. Rick shrugged at her.

"Worth a shot," he said, turning his attention back to the 'fight.'

"Glad that wasn't my crate," Eagle remarked.

"Hey, she's standing still. Can you get a bead on her now?"

"Crate's in the way."

"Fudge."

/*/

Tex heaved the dented crate at the four annoyances. Dex dashed to the right, Red ran headlong into the crate's path, trying to get ahead of it, while Church froze. Tucker stood his ground and lit his energy sword. "Don't worry guys, I got this," he said, taking a stance. As the crate came closer, he took a deep breath before bringing his sword up, around, and down with a mighty cry of, "Swish!" cutting the crate, which happened to be full of medpacs, in half. Dex was clipped by it, Red got hit in the head with a few falling medpacs, and Church ended up buried in them.

"Ouch," was the general consensus of the group.

"Oh, fudge berries. Hey Tex, could you..." Tucker said, turning toward the rampaging Freelancer. Said rampaging Freelancer didn't give a cookie and prompted kicked him down and continued to stalk the poor, abused, members of the BGC. "Alright, that's it, come here!" Tucker snarled, prepared to go toe-to-toe with the female A.I.

/*/

"S~o glad it wasn't my crate."

"Shoot the darn Freelancer!"

"Ah. Right."

/*/

A sniper shot rang out, drawing Tex's attention and distracting Tucker. A large barrel was thrown toward the source of the shot, flying over a hanging crate. Dex barely made out the burgundy speck that leapt to another, lower, container. Seeing it roll a few paces before vanishing, the red nodded to himself, pleased that his sniper was relatively unharmed. "Oh thank goodness! I thought I was a goner!" Kai remarked, running out from behind her shelter, which had been all to save her from the flying half-container.

"WHAT?!" bellowed Dex, rushing out of his landing place, a bit of paint scratched off his helmet.

"Bu-rah! What happened?! I feel defeated! And yet, inexplicably rejuvenated!" Red bellowed, standing up from where the falling medpacs had knocked him down. Meanwhile, Tucker was trying to fight Tex with his sword.

"Swish!" Tucker cried, finally swinging his sword. Tex dodged backward, then hit him twice in quick succession, once to the head and once just below the armpit. Tucker stumbled from the hits but came back with a, "Swoosh!" Tex gave a repeat performance, throwing in a kick for good measure. Waving out of the way of Tucker's, "Stab!" Tex grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back, loosening his grip on the handle. Kicking out his knee, Tex pushed him down into a kneeling position before kicking his head and wrenching the sword from his hand. Tucker was sent skidding across the floor and fell through a stray teleporter.

"Man, those things are everywhere!" Rick remarked.

"Yeah, Tucker hates those things," Caboose said, watching as Tucker came stumbling out of _another_ teleporter right into Tex's grip. Tex, who had his _still activated sword_. Just as she was about to bring it down on the cyan soldier, who's trademark armor was covered in splotches of soot, it went out. Of course, being Tucker, the man just couldn't resist the joke that was served to him on a silver platter.

"What's the matter, Tex? Having trouble keeping it up? Don't worry, happens to everybody," he said. Red, Dex, and Church shared looks.

"Oh for the love of Pete," Kai sighed and fired at the Freelancer. Tex threw Tucker back through the teleporter and dove out of the way of Kai's bullets. Tucker flew out of the connected teleporter completely covered in soot.

/*/

"Seriously, how many of those things are there in this facility? And how many times is Tex gonna use 'em?" Rick commented.

"A lot."

"That was a rhetorical question, Caboose. I didn't really want an answer."

"If you didn't want an answer, why did you ask?"

"Good grief! No wonder the Blues are insane if _this_ is what they have to put up with on a daily basis!"

"You are mean. I do not like you."

"You're annoying. I don't like you either. It would seem we are at an impasse."

"... What does impasse mean?"

"I wonder if I should just take my chances with Tex?"

"Caboose~! Stop making Rick contemplate suicide," Eagle said, tone oddly torn between scolding and monotone.

"... What does contemplate mean?" The two reds simultaneously decided to just ignore the brain damaged Blue. It saved on headaches.

/*/

If Red and Dex hadn't been as well trained as they were(meaning; if they hadn't actually taken the second required to recognize that Tucker _always_ gets covered in soot when going through the teleporter _and_ the lights on his armor were still blue), the two would have begun beating on him. As it was, Kai still jumped and fired while Church whimpered, looking around for where Tex might be.

Alpha A.I. the Blue might be, but Tex still scared him. His run in with Epsilon had transferred a few memories of Allison and... well... there was a _reason_ Agent Tex was as badass as she was.

Somehow, no-one quite saw how, Tucker ended up holding Kai out of a teleporter... only for him to notice Tex standing by _another_ teleporter. He was just in time with this revelation for her to figure out the two were a connected pair and punch Tucker where the sun don't shine. Naturally, this led to both Blues falling through the teleporter with a general sentiment of 'oh Master Chief, why?' that was made greater when Tucker fell right into Tex's grip. A picture perfect suplex and a roll later, Tex was on top of the currently-black armored soldier.

"Oh, right to the mount huh?" Tucker asked through the barrage of face punches Tex was laying on him. "Not even gonna buy me dinner?" the 'playa' continued. Red and Dex decided to tune the Blue out, Dex having reloaded his rocket launcher and starting to move into position. Still, it was an older model SPNKR and locking onto a target was hard when there were two such similar figures so close together.

"Come on, Tucker, buck her off!" Dex pleaded, trying to get a bead on Tex. For some reason, Doc walked up and attempted to _talk_ to the rampaging Freelancer. "Doc~! Get out of the way!" the weapons expert growled at the medic. Doc didn't pay attention to the Red Agent but drew Tex's focus.

This was not a good thing.

Tucker got kicked into Doc's midriff, then Tex grabbed his ankle and drew him back in for a punch so strong... well. Red put it best. "Wow, she knocked the black right off you," the gruff Sargent remarked as the now-cyan-again soldier skidded to a stop beside Dex.

"That's racist," the much abused Blue moaned, struggling back to his feet. Dex had to give credit where credit was due. Anyone who could take a beating like that from an android like Tex and still get back up for more was either one tough dude or a masochist. Possibly both, but Tucker had never struck Dex as the masochistic type, so he was going for the 'one tough dude' option.

"You're all clear, Dex. Now shoot her!" Red bellowed.

"On it," Dex grunted, locking on and firing in a smooth, practiced motion.

Too bad Tex was just that much better than the BGC.

She saw the rocket coming and ran toward a teleporter, grabbing the top of the frame to swing herself through. The missile, being of the heat-seeking variety, followed her through. Unfortunately, Tex was now barreling toward the BGC with a missile on her heels. "Are your fudging kidding me? RUN!" Tucker yelled, perfectly summing up his comrades' thoughts before running into Dex as they tried to go in opposite directions. Red got smacked with the rocket launcher in Dex's hands while Church and Doc ran toward the slashed crate. Tapping her fist against her open palm, Tex proceeded to lay out the three disorientated soldiers with a single running punch. Their feet came up off the ground for a brief moment before cruel gravity decided to make it's presence known once more and slam them into the harsh, unforgiving concrete of the facility floor.

/*/

While Tucker, Dex, and Red were falling, Tex slid between Church's legs and past Doc. Luckily for the two of them, the rocket didn't hit them. Unluckily, it hit the medical supplies as Tex went through a teleporter that had fallen on its side and the whole thing went off like a Fourth of July fireworks display. Of course, none of them could run away fast enough and got launched into the air by the chain of explosions. Luckily, Kai wasn't caught in the blast otherwise Dex might well have killed himself trying to take down Tex in retaliation. As it was, she manipulated a concrete divider so that Church landed on it, one leg on either side. "Sometimes, I _really_ hate my life," the A.I. remarked as he slid off of the dented construct. Tex just kept on walking... until a medpac got thrown at her head. "Hey Tex! How about you pick on someone your own size?" Epsilon asked, hefted a sniper rifle in his new robotic hands.

The BGC, minus Caboose, face palmed.

"He does realize that he's not going to do any better... right?" Eagle asked. Kai shook her head as Tex picked up the medpac that had hit her and stalked toward the mildly nervous A.I.

"Don't think he thought that far ahead, Tucker. Don't think he thought that far ahead," Red remarked as the Freelancer began to beat Epsilon in the head.

"Tex! Stop it! You are embarrassing me!" the A.I. protested.

"Dude," Eagle drawled, dropping from his perch and stalking forward with his rifle in hand, "there are _too many_ responses to that one."

"You don't need any help with that?" Dex offered.

"You already did that?" Tucker suggested.

"She's the embarrassed one?" Kai put forth.

"You were born an embarrassment?" Red asked.

"Getting beat up with a medpac is the definition of 'pathetic irony,'" Rick stated, sounding thoroughly bored even though Dex was _sure_ the tech was highly amused by the scene.

"Hmmm... I was thinking... 'you are so far past embarrassing, you're in a different zipcode,'" Eagle remarked, also sounding thoroughly bored with the situation. He wasn't fooling anyone. Except maybe Caboose and Kai...

"Oh, nice one!" Dex barked, not bothering with even _attempting_ to hide his amusement. "Oh oh! How about, 'you've already embarrassed yourself so much, he won't even look at you!'?"

"Or maybe, 'should'a had a Reality Check?'" Rick offered over the Comms.

"I _did_ try to tell you she was best left alone, in the past, _where she belongs!_ " Church yelled. This caused Tex to pause, hit Epsilon one more time, then turn to look at the _other_ cobalt soldier. "Oh, so _now_ you notice the inconsistency! Honestly, boredom coupled with irritation is a _scary_ combination with you, Tex," the A.I. snarked, crossing his arms and tapping his right foot slightly.

"What... why are there two of you?" Tex asked.

"Right. I think some introductions are in order," Church said. "I'm Private Alpha Church of Blue Team. This is my best friend, Private Lavernius Tucker, also of Blue Team," he explained motioning to the cyan soldier.

"You pack one heck of a punch, lady," Tucker said, saluting with his sword.

"The one in yellow is our field negotiator, Private Kaikana Grif."

"Hey! Nice to see you again, Tex!" the girl said, almost unduly perky.

"Why you made her the _Field Negotiator,_ I won't even _pretend_ to understand," Dex grumbled. "I happen to be Kai's older brother, Sargent Dexter Grif of Red Team. You may also know me as Senior Agent Orange of Project Red," he continued before grabbing her by the protruding shoulder plate and dragging her so close their helmets clinked together and the A.I. could clearly see his eyes glaring at her. "You hurt my sister and I _swear to you_ , what I did today will look like the gag reel of a _parody._ Understood?" he growled. For once, Tex actually felt _intimidated_ by the man.

"Stand down, Dex!" Red barked, Dex pulled another knife out of _somewhere_ and hurled it at the older Sargent. Without looking. And nearly hit him. "Where did you get _that!?_ "

"I may not be Rick, but I am _still_ the weapons expert on this team, Red. I have my ways," Dex remarked, stepping back from the Freelancer A.I.

"ANYWAY!" Alpha said, trying to regain some semblance of control. "The idiot you've been beating up with a medpac is Epsilon, Washington's more than a little crazed A.I.," he further explained, pointing his own rifle at the somehow sheepish robot.

"Wait... you... you know...?" Tex said, caught off guard. Alpha nodded.

"I realize I'm an A.I. In fact, I know I fragmented. The process was difficult, to protect myself I shunted away almost all of my memories; incidentally creating Epsilon; which caused me to be neck deep in a little thing called denial. Once I got past that however... my fragmented nature... didn't do me any favors. Even after having partially rebuilt my personality by being... I think I was forcibly implanted into a soldier, absorbing some of their memories and personality while overwriting their control of their body. Which _might_ explain my memories of Private Jimmy, but _not_ why I seem to recall you ripping out his skull and beating him to death with it," he said, becoming pensive. Tex jerked.

"As badass as that sounds... it doesn't seem physically possible," she remarked.

"And that's exactly what Jimmy was screaming... as you beat him to death with his own skull," Alpha replied flatly. "Anyway," he continued, waving that line of thought away, "I was talking about how my fragmentation didn't help _anything_ , despite partial reconstruction due to... circumstances and almost literally insane environments."

"*cough * Caboose! *cough *," Dex... coughed?

"Ah. And company," Alpha deadpanned. "So, I never really realized I was an A.I. until this crazy ex-Freelancer lady called Marley convinced me to try possessing her. Once inside her mind, she... dragged me deeper. I ended up in the part of her mind where the Aspects of Personality were given physical form. Abstract ideas and concepts could be interacted with, learned from." Alpha shook his head. "It's... pretty much impossible to explain what I experienced in Marley's Core, but the end result is... well, me. I became more than what the Director had made me. A.I. though I am, Marley taught me how to be human. Epsilon, however, is _very much_ how I was before that... enlightening... trip through a Freelancer's mind."

"So... you're really the Alpha?" Tex asked. The 'eldest' Church nodded.

"Before Epsilon decided to come out of his storage unit, I was mostly referred to as 'Church.' Now that several of my Fragments are, for lack of a better term, Active I will answer to either 'Alpha' or 'Church.' But that's not the main issue right now. See, we were actually running from five ex-Freelancers who want to turn Epsilon over to the UNSC in return for... what was it, freedom? Amnesty? Pardons?"

"Ya know, it was kinda unclear," Doc said.

"Oh, you mean like Freelancer's goals?" Eagle asked. Dex snickered and fist bumped the sniper.

"Guys, can we _please_ stay on topic?" Alpha whined. "I was kinda hoping to get Tex on our side for this."

"Hum... that _would_ be helpful... in a way," Dex hummed, instantly serious once more. "Which is why I wasn't going full out against her from the beginning." That caught the Blues, including Kai, a little off guard. They'd had paintball matches against the man and had thought he'd shown them what he could do, but this threw those assumptions into serious question.

"Dex?" Kai asked, a hint of disbelief in her voice.

"If I didn't think she could be reasoned with, I would have used my knives a lot more. Not to mention, I wouldn't have hesitated when I had her pinned. Had I been serious, she'd be down at least a head right now," Dex revealed. Eagle nodded.

"If I'd still had paint loaded, she'd be glued to the floor with at least ten rounds right now. As it is, I only have lethal rounds loaded," he explained.

"So _that's_ why you never actually shot her!" Rick shouted from his position in the Booth. "I had wondered."

"GUYS! CODE FREELANCER!" Alpha yelled, waving his hands in the air before he froze for a moment. "I _cannot_ believe I just _said_ that," he muttered, looking down and to the left. The Reds chuckle while Tex seemed to be a little lost and Epsilon was experiencing another BSoD moment.

"Right. How about we let Tex take Epsilon as a decoy and follow along later?" Dex asked.

"Works for me! Hey Tex, how about you take my idiot little brother to some remote base and beat the snot out of him there while trying to figure out where exactly you came from and why?" Alpha asked. Tex shrugged and dragged Epsilon out Like a Boss. "Right. That was easy."

"Um. Easy," Eagle drawled, already loping toward The Booth.

/*/

Marley lifted her head, eyes narrowing. "My plot sense is tingling," she suddenly piped up. Her teammates gave her incredulous looks.

"Seriously?" Flowdie asked.

"Yes. And so are my Workaround Senses. Ah~! For some reason, I feel both proud and irritated. Like something was resolved far too easily but still set things up so that certain events will play out like we need," Marley answered with a firm nod.

"Something tells me our little 'civil war' has fallen apart," the former Agent Florida muttered, eying his love.

"But... we're still going to be free of the UNSC... right? We're not going to remain fugitives... right?!" Wash asked, sounding uncharacteristically anxious.

"Yes, that is what I meant by events playing out like we need," Marley responded. While the men shared mildly confused looks, Marley grinned, content in the thought that soon she'd be back with her boys. ' _With gifts,_ ' she added, glancing to where she'd stashed the unfortunately executed Maine's Brute Shot. She'd already added orange details to it in preparation for its new owner.

/?/

A/N: LAZY ENDING! I'M SORRY!

Seriously though, I have no better idea on how to get them to the snowy place where the Wash&Meta vs Tex battle took place. Also, Maine was little better than a mad dog without a handler. His mind had been shattered by the A.I. and he was highly unstable. Plus, he would have died anyway. I just made it so he didn't have to _drown_. Horrible way to go in my mind, especially in ice water. BRRR! No thanks!

Let me know what you thought of the BGC vs Tex scene! Hope it was semi-believable and that Dex's explanation for why he didn't use his knives or the vast array of weapons laying around more was sufficient for why I stuck so close to the webisode. Until next time, Caio~!


	52. Episode 49

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB.

 **Episode 49:** Another Round of Exposition?

Alpha stared at the sight before him. "Okay... what the heck is going on here? I thought you left to beat the stuffing out of my idiot brother, not surf the web!" he said, seeing Tex and Epsilon standing beside the computer with Rick.

"Hey, she's not pounding me into the ground, I'm not filling her with lead, we're both getting dirt on Freelancer... don't rock the boat, okay?" the red said.

"I think I like this one," Tex said, nodding toward Rick.

"Why thank you. I make an effort to be the most likable member of our team," the man said. If he could have, Alpha would have rolled his eyes. "Hey Al, you might want to take a look at some of this. We've found some pretty cool stuff on Phyllis' hard-drive," Rick added. Quirking a digital eyebrow at the nick-name, the A.I. moved closer to see what the tech was all excited about.

"Psych profiles?" Alpha asked.

"Washington used to wet the bed!" Rick sang with far too much glee.

"What's it got on Oregon?" Alpha asked, seeing where this could be fun.

"Let's see, Agent Oregon... decorated medic, placed her team above herself, never left a man behind... traumatized Agent Wyoming?"

"Hey, I think I remember that!" Alpha said. "Didn't he act all scared around her when she put on her Freelancer armor?"

"Yeah. Says here she... oh," Rick said, backing away.

"What? What did she do?!" Alpha asked, taking a look for himself. "Oh."

"Yeah. Guess it's pretty clear why she was an Agent and not just one of the on-call doctors, huh?" Rick asked. Alpha thought he sounded a little green. He shook his head and looked up Agent Florida.

"What?! Aw man, Captain Flowers _was_ a Freelancer! GAH! I should have just let Dex shoot him," the A.I. ranted, staring at the psych eval for one Butch Flowers AKA Agent Florida. Rick shook his head.

"Marley already told you that," Rick said.

"Yeah, but no-one told us he had a major crush on her!"

"Dude... that should have been, like, _blindingly_ obvious," Rick drawled. "Hey, since you're here and not a total wimp like Epps..."

"HEY!"

"Think you could coax Phyllis into giving us the Director's information?" Rick finished, completely ignoring how Epsilon protested being called a wimp. Alpha sighed.

"I don't want to know," he said, then turned to Epsilon. "Just being around Epsilon is giving me a headache from all the loose information he's got swirling around him. I keep wanting to call Tex 'Allison' and 'my wife.' It's kind of distracting." Rick sighed.

"Right. I'm just gonna... go... run inventory or something. We're going to need more ammo if nothing else," he said before running off.

"HEY! DON'T LEAVE ME WITH HIM!" Alpha yelled as he ran after the red.

/*/

Rick smirked at the pounding of Al's boots on the metal flooring. "Couldn't stand it, huh?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Shut up," Al growled. "Know where to _find_ the ammo in this place?"

"Well~," Rick drawled, feeling a bit playful. "I would assume that it's in a crate that _hasn't_ blown up yet."

"Oh, ha ha, very funny," Al drawled back.

"Aw come on~! That was one of my better ones!" Rick mock-whined.

"I would hate to hear your _bad_ ones," Al remarked dryily. "Now come on, let's find that ammo before the Freelancers find us or worse, Tex decides beating up Epps isn't as much fun as she was hoping for."

"Oh hey, you used my nick-name," Rick noted as he pried open a crate. "And~... jackpot!" The thing was full of...

"Dude... those are _magnum_ rounds. Hardly anyone uses those," Al pointed out. Rick scoffed and pulled out... "And where do you guys keep _getting_ this stuff?! I _know_ you didn't have that spray paint before."

"Freelancers got Armor Enhancement, Reds got Hammer Space. It _all_ works out," Rick explained, speaking as though to a child. Al gave him a bland look.

"You have issues."

"We all do man. It's just a matter of utilizing, repressing, and masking them that allows us to appear half-way normal," Rick answered, painting his mark on the magnum ammo case with his maroon spray paint.

/*/

"I'm leaving," Tex said.

"Good! And take Epps with you. Guy needs some sense beat into him before he meets the Phantoms," Dex answered. Everyone swiveled around to stare at him. "What? Marley wants him for her personal A.I. and she's proven she can make dummies of A.I. in the past. Why couldn't she make a Dummy!Epsilon and turn him in along with all the info we swiped off the computers at Command?"

"Plot Hole Alert," Eagle droned. "I sense a Plot Hole!"

"Shut up, Eagle. No-one cares about a little thing like Plot!" Epsilon barked.

"Please, take him with you," Dex pleaded, hands in front of his face. Of course, his lackluster tone made it more amusing than persuasive but whatever.

"Later," Tex said, dragging Epsilon out of the warehouse and toward... something. Was there a frozen base involved? Empty files full of nothing? Snowflakes on blacktop? Something poetic like that.

"So... why did you call them 'Phantoms' when they were clearly working as Freelancers?" Rick asked. Dex shrugged.

"I dunno, Marley just always talked like she knew pretty much _everything_ so it was just a little weird that she'd turn on us like that. Besides, after that one skirmish at Blood Gulch, when have they attacked us?"

"We threw them off our trail, that's all," Red said. Dex shook his head.

"It doesn't fit! Marley gave us this armor. I may not be an expert, but I'm fairly sure she can track it. She _knows_ stuff, full stop. How could she not know where we are from the Visions alone? On top of that... it's _freaking_ _ **Marley!**_ She wouldn't want to kill us! Washington, on the other hand, needs some convincing that the Freelancer way isn't all it's cracked up to be. And Lock and Clear are new as well. Come on, it was a set up!" he argued.

"Fine. Maybe it was. But we're here, we have access to the Freelancer network, ammo, and let us not forget... armor enhancements. If they stored any back ups here that is," Rick said, throwing up his hands in surrender.

"Fine. Rick, you and I will look for those enhancements. Red, Eagle, you two go look for ammo. Doc, see if any of the medical supplies can be salvaged. Tucker, Al, you'll be babysitting Caboose," Dex said.

"Hey! Who made you leader?!" Red asked.

"Well, we're of the same rank. I guess I can't really give you orders. So... please go with Eagle to find ammo?" Dex answered.

"Fine. Not like I have anything better to do," Red grumbled. Eagle nodded and walked off, presumably in search of ammo.

/*/

Turned out, there _were_ back up armor enhancements. "Okay, I don't trust Gary to tell me the truth about what these do, so ask Larry to analyzes these things," Dex said, staring at them.

"The red one is Speed, the Blue one is a localized EMP, and the yellow one is a healing unit," Larry said.

"Why's the yellow one healing? Why not green? Or red?" Dex asked.

"Uncertain," Larry answered.

"Can you ran any of them?" Rick asked.

"Uncertain."

"Well that's helpful. Hey Rick, if you could have a superpower, what would it be? Speed, EMP, or Healing?" Dex asked. Rick shook his head and picked up the EMP unit.

"This wouldn't effect you, right Larry?"

"Uncertain."

"Hey, is the sky blue?"

"Uncertain."

"What about... is my armor orange?" Dex asked.

"Yes. You are Orange," Larry answered.

"Okay. Just checking that you didn't get stuck," the red said. Rick rolled his eyes again an put down the EMP unit, not wanting to risk it.

"Let's try the Speed Unit," he said. Dex almost chuckled but hooked the unit up anyway. "Alright, Larry. Let's try this," Rick said.

"Accessing Speed Unit. Ready for use. One foot in front of the other, Agent Maroon," Larry answered.

"It must be some sort of rule that all Churches being at least mildly patronizing," Rick grumbled but took off all the same. "WHOOOO!" he shouted, vanishing in a blur of speed. Dex could only smirk as he listened to Rick's feet pound the metal flooring. "THIS IS AWESOME!"

"Oh yeah, he's keeping that," Dex remarked, half to himself and half to Gary.

"You really think that's wise?" Gary asked.

"You? Asking me about _wisdom?_ I think the world just tilted on its axis."

"I am merely attempting to... heal," Gary said, some hint of emotion in his electronic monotone. Dex blinked before a slow smirk spread across his face.

"Heal, huh? Hum... We've got time. Want to take a trip inside my head? Meet my Aspects of Personality?" he asked, only halfway joking.

"Are you sure we have enough time for that?" Gary asked. Dex chuckled and strolled over to where Red and Eagle were talking.

"As long as I let someone know I'm going to be spaced out, I see no problem," the weapon master declared. "Oi! Red! Gary wants to, as he put it, 'heal,' so I'm going to be a little spaced out for a while. Let me know if I miss something good while I'm gone would you?"

"You sure it's a good idea to let Gary loose in yer head?" Red asked. Eagle snorted.

"For whom?" he asked. Red paused.

"Ya got a point there, Eagle. On one hand, Gary could mess up Dex's brain while on the other, Dex's brain could mess up Gary's code. Ah fudge it, go ahead! I'm curious," the gruff man said, waving a hand at the other Sargent. Dex grinned and sat down, resting his back against a random container and relaxing. ' _We're good, Gary. Go learn what you need to,_ ' he told the A.I. living in his armor and at least attempting to open his mind.

/*/

While Gary was taking a trip through the strange place that was Dex's subconscious, Rick was running around like a chipmunk on speed (Doc twitched as Chi muttered something about a reference sense tingling), and the other two reds were sorting through the assorted ammo in the facility, Tucker and Al decided that Tucker would entertain Caboose while the team A.I. went digging around in the computer again. Because everyone knew A.I. were automatically good with machines. Anyway, Al went looking through the records and came across something that, under different circumstances, would have been shocking. "Huh. Turns out the Reds and Blue were only ever practice for the Freelancers and everything we went through were prefabricated scenarios," Al broadcast to the whole facility. "And they were staffed by... low level operatives based on poor field performance and low test scores."

"I hate standardized tests!" Rick bellowed, skidding to a halt in the control room. "Time limits and stupid number two pencils and those creepy proctors, breathing down your neck like disapproving marine nannies!" If he could have, Al would have blinked at the man.

"Disapproving marine nannies? What kind of messed up nannies did _you_ have as a child?" he asked. Rick gave him a dour look.

"You do not want to know," he declared. Al took that at face value and turned back just as Red walked over.

"So you mean everything we went through, all of it... was just _practice for those_ _ **gosh-darn**_ _ **Freelancers!?**_ " he bellowed. "Even that thing with the alien and the pregnant guy?!"

"Yeah... male pregnancy is Simulation... Three," Al answered. Red sighed and shook his head.

"I knew we weren't really military, Marley made sure of that, but to have it spelled out by their own records, to know that all of the misfortune that befell us, all of us, was just some sort of sick _practice run_... I'm done," the Sargent ranted, shaking his head and walking out. Rick and Al shared a look before heading after Red.

"Ah, a little more to the left," they heard Caboose direct. A moment later a makeshift fort came into view and Al was treated to the sight of Rick preforming a textbook face fault.

"Oh, so this is the level of absurdity that gets you? Not the pulling-things-from-thin-air... thing?" Al asked.

"Not even that phenomenon can compare to this. This... is like pulling a pillow fort out of thin air rather than a pen or a can of spray paint," Rick answered. "This... is insane and I can only bow before the madness." Al shook his head at the red.

"I will never understand how you people work," he remarked as Rick picked himself up.

"Says the A.I. who went for a stroll through Marley's subconscious," he quipped.

"Touche," Al acknowledged.

"If it's going to be freaking _acknowledged_ that my entire military career was nothing but a _sham_ and that I was only ever the leader of _junk_ , then I'll have a fort made of junk! Fitting, right?" Red bellowed.

"Dex is going to be _so_ sad he missed this," Rick remarked lowly.

"Oh don't worry. I'm recording," Al told him.

"Ah, good thinking. Alright, here I go," Rick said, then cleared his throat and addressed Red directly. "That is an accurate description."

"I was being rhetorical," Red shot back.

"And I was being blunt," Rick said, crossing his arms. "Though, I suppose you might be on to something. The Blues will surely..."

"The Blues? Don't you get it? There's no point to it all!" Red bellowed down at his teammate.

"Slow on the uptake much?" Eagle asked, drawing their attention briefly to the somehow still hanging container he'd decided to lounge on.

"He was the one deepest in De Nile," Rick drawled, shaking his head.

"I wasn't in denial! I was holding out hope that there _was_ a hidden point to it all! And now... I wish I hadn't found out what it was. _Practice_. Living _training tools_. I feel _violated_. Disgusted!" Red ranted, shaking a fist at the ceiling in righteous indignation.

"Huh. I think he may have finally lost it," Al remarked, calmly watching the Red Agent undergo what could be called an existential crisis. Or was this a mental breakdown? It was kind of hard to tell with Red. He's got one of those helmets. And voices. And tempers. He... he's just one of _those_ guys, ya know? Okay, back on topic.

"No! Okay, maybe. But there's still a chance he's just being dramatic over Marley being proven right," Rick said, wanting to defend the man he'd answered to for so long but knowing that Al had a point. "Come on, Sir, it's not as bad as you're making it out to be. We knew about this!"

"Don't call me that!" Red snapped, glaring at Rick. The tech quirked an eyebrow at the response.

"Okay, I'll call you Red. Like I usually do. In fact, you refusing to be called 'sir' is actually helpful to me," he said. "Now, can you get down here? It's annoying having to keep looking up at you and yelling."

"Yeah, okay," Red said, hopping down. Rick turned back to Al.

"You got all that, right?" he asked. Al nodded.

"Oh yeah. Every minute," he answered, amused.

"Ya.. wha... 'got all that?'" Red asked.

"Oh, I recorded the whole conversation," Al answered.

"We thought Dex would get a kick out of it," Rick said.

"Yeah... it wasn't as funny as we thought it would be, though," Al added.

"Too dull," Eagle remarked.

"You are all _terrible_ ," Red growled. The other three shared a look before turning back to Red.

"You only just figured that out?" they asked together. Red growled at them and they gave him unrepentant grins.

/*/

Meanwhile, Tex and Epsilon had arrived at the Ice Base. And Tex had summarily wiped out all the people on-site. "Wow, you took all those guys out at once? Was that really necessary?" Epsilon asked, eying the bloody forms laying on the ground, dying the snow red. Tex shrugged, indifferent.

"Meh, they'll live," she said. Epsilon gave her his best 'really?' look.

"No. They won't," he pointed out. A quite scan and Tex found that, yes, she _had_ killed them rather than simply knocking them out or incapacitating them.

"Oh, yeah, I see your point," she admitted, clearly unfazed by the multiple homicides she just completed. "Come on, let's get inside," Tex said, already heading inside. Epsilon went to follow her but stopped as some sort of vision appeared before his eyes. Several scenes of Tex running into a tunnel or base flashed through his mind and pulled him up short.

"What? Wait a minute... Hey, Tex! Hang on a minute!" he called out, jogging to catch up with his 'girlfriend.'

"What's wrong?" Tex asked, turning to face the echo of her greatest failure. Epsilon faltered, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck in that nervous habit he had. Tex mentally grit her teeth as Allison's memories tried to take purchase in her code. Allison had regarded those kinds of habits with fond exasperation. She'd thought it was adorable how the brash and arrogant Dr. Leonard Church would turn into such a shy little schoolboy around her. Epsilon started to worry the snow with his toe and Tex had to turn off her optics lest Allison's memories drive her to do something stupid. Like hug him. That little quirk had been one of the late Mrs. Church's favorites.

"Um... I... I don't know if it's something, ya know, _dangerous_ but uh... I... kinda... had a... well. I kinda just had a psychic vision. About you. A-and you were running into places a lot like this one and..." Epsilon rambled. Tex sighed.

"It's not dangerous, Church. It just means you're remembering," she said, turning back around and headed for the base again. "You've been here before," she said as they entered the now-empty base. Their footsteps echoed eerily in the large structure and Epsilon felt a shiver go down his spine. "We all were," Tex went on, her voice gaining a haunting quality as it bounced off the walls. "This is where they moved Alpha. After a few of us Freelancers went rouge, we compared notes and pieced together what they were doing to him," she explained, looking around the facility with a detached kind of curiosity. Epsilon stuck close, unsettled. "I convinced the others to come back; break the Alpha out. The Project moved him here to try to protect him, so that they could keep experimenting on him."

"Whoa wait, you were in charge of the break in?" Epsilon asked hazy memories of said break in coming back to him. Tex nodded some semblance of sorrow curling in her code.

"I couldn't just let them destroy him," she said, glancing back at Epsilon. "They were torturing him," she explained. "The Director even started to use some of the other A.I. against him. Think about that: turning his own fragments against him? It's sick. Gamma and Omega would fabricate scenarios where he was designed to fail. And they made it seem like his failures were hurting all of the people he cared about, and there was nothing he could do about it. It drove him mad. Broke him down even more." Epsilon followed her in silence for a few steps, the story of the Alpha serving to make the whole place even creepier.

"But... you came back. You saved him," he said, still not fully understanding the tragedy that surrounded the installation's history.

"No, I didn't. It was too late," Tex said with a tone of melancholy. "By the time I got to him, he was already long gone. I don't even think he recognized me. I failed. Only in my case, it really was my fault." They'd reemerged from the base now and Epsilon felt it was quite fitting, in a symbolic way, that a snowstorm was just beginning to pick up as they stepped out onto the frozen wasteland of ice and snow.

/*/

It was rather unnerving to sit next to someone who was constantly wincing while giggling. "Okay, what's going on?" Flowdie asked Marley.

"Oh, nothing much. Just that I'm pretty sure the boys just got pounded by Tex," she answered. The others shared confused looks.

"So... why the...?" Ed began, unsure of what Marley's current actions should be called.

"I'm torn between sympathy for their pain, disappointment that I wasn't there to see it, and anticipation for the security tapes. I'm quite interested in how my boys hold up to a rampaging Agent Texas," the combat doctor answered, understanding exactly what the lockpick was trying to ask.

"And that translates into wincing while laughing?" Wash asked. Marley nodded.

"Yes, it does. I couldn't make up my mind whether to cringe or chuckle, so I'm doing both," she answered. "It's like when you don't know whether to laugh or cry, Davy."

"Please don't call me Davy," Wash moaned, knowing it was futile. He may not have known Marley for long, but even he could tell that when she wanted something, she got it. Suddenly, she sat up a bit straighter. "My plot sense is tingling," she piped up. Her teammates gave her incredulous looks. "9er! Take us to the secure facility they moved Alpha to."

"Your 'plot sense' is terrifying. You know that right?" Flowdie remarked even as 479er adjusted their course.

"Do you want to find the BGC or not?" Marley snapped.

"Shutting up," Flowdie said, sitting back in his chair and holding onto the harness.

"Whipped~!"

"Three words. Surgeon. of. Death," Flowdie deadpanned. The others wisely shut their mouths. "That's what I thought."

/*/

The ice storm was still going strong and Epsilon wasn't going to put up with this idiocy any longer. "Tex, **stop.** Where are we going?" he demanded. Tex stopped and sighed.

"Look, there's only one person left who knows what happened to me. The Director," she said, turning back to Epsilon.

"The Director? No-one even knows who he is!" the A.I. exclaimed.

"I can think of two people who might know: Marley and Flowdie," Tex said. Epsilon sputtered.

"Who even are they?!"

"Agents Oregon and Florida. The first and last Agents to go rouge," Tex answered. "They're also the ones behind Project Red."

"Tex... what if they don't even know?" Epsilon asked, trying to get the Freelancer to see reason.

"Then I get to kill Oregon and Florida," Tex stated. "If I can't find the Director, I'll just dismantle everything he ever built."

"Tex..." Epsilon began, then looked around as he shifted in place and memories forced their way to the forefront of his mind. "I think the Director made all this... for you." Tex scoffed at the very idea.

"All the more reason to watch it all burn," she growled.

"Facing Marley and Flowdie, if they are who you say they are, is suicide, even if we knew where they were. News flash! **We don't**. How in the wild blue yonder are you gonna find them?" Epsilon protested. Tex thought she smirked, but couldn't be sure. She was an A.I. in a robot, kind of hard to move metal into facial expressions.

"They'll find us," she said confidently.

"Oh, so, what? We just hole up? Wait for them to come without ever even knowing when that's going to be?" Epsilon protested, trying to poke logic shaped holes in her plan. Too bad Tex knew things that Epsilon had long ago forgotten.

"No, they'll come now," she said, readying her gun.

" _How?!_ Are you just gonna call them on the phone?" Epsilon asked angrily.

"Something like that," Tex remarked easily as she brought the gun up and... shot Epsilon, causing his recovery beacon to go off.

"Tex?" Epsilon asked weakly, already beginning to go into recovery mode.

"I needed you to come. Phyllis' records said the recovery beacon wouldn't activate until we left the storage facility," Tex explained.

"Tex?" Epsilon repeated a world of betrayal contained in that one word.

"I didn't ask to be paired with you. I didn't want to come back. But I'm here now, so I'm gonna put an end to this," Tex declared, already beginning to prepare for the fight that was going to take place.

"Tex, I would have helped you," Epsilon moaned. Tex shook her head.

"You can't even help yourself. That's why you made _me_ , Church. You made me to take on all the things you can't handle. Just like you always have. Well guess what, I'm gonna handle it. Oregon and Florida will be coming now. I have some things to get ready," she said, stalking off.

"Tex... why are you doing this?" Epsilon asked. Just as the world went dark he heard Tex's contemplative voice say,

"Funny you should ask. That's _exactly_ what I plan to find out."

Too bad Tex was only counting on _two_ Freelancers.

/*/

"Whoa hey!" Wash remarked suddenly. Marley shot a look toward him.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Where is that... no way. It _can't_ be," Wash breathed. Marley thought she could see the whites of his wide eyes as he stared at her.

"What? What is it?" she asked, anticipation building inside her.

"I'm getting it too," North remarked.

"Should have known he might end up there," Flowdie remarked, shaking his head.

"You knew this was going to be the final showdown, didn't you?" Wash accused, trying his best to ignore the flashing coordinates inside his helmet, the glowing confirmation that Marley had pointed them in the right direction. Marley shrugged, visor clear to show her unrepentant smirk.

"I may not have gotten to see the beat down Tex gave my boys at the off-site storage facility with my own eyes, but I'm going to get to see them fighting it out in the snow first hand. I'm satisfied," she said.

"Do we have a storage unit?" Wash asked. Ed held up a unit that appeared to have been stashed under his seat for a while if the layer of dust was anything to go by.

"I'll take that as a yes," Jack said with a smirk. Wash glared at Marley.

"You've planed this, haven't you?" he asked. She shrugged.

"Not every step of the way, goodness no. Too many variables for that. No. I planned _for_ this," she answered. "If my plan to get Wash out of prison failed, if there were a civil war style grudge match, I knew this would be the final play and so I planned accordingly. If things can _finally_ play out like I hope, it'll all work out. Eventually. It may take a while for everything to settle just so, but trust me on this, it'll work out," she explained. Wash sighed and sat back, not quite content but at least willing to let things go.

/*/

A/N: I just... couldn't force myself to write _another_ Journey of the Mind and jumping straight into the fight just... didn't feel like it would flow right. So, you get this. Enjoy!


	53. Episode 50

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB.

Warning: Tex, Phantoms, the BGC, and a whole lot of explosions.

 **Episode 50:** Blood Roses and Snow Drops

This was it.

The time had come.

Everything rose or fell with the outcome of this one battle.

Okay, maybe not quite _everything_ but the battle with Tex, and later the BGC, would be an important tipping point in their collective stories. Would the Phantoms fall like Freelancers or would they legally become Phantoms, dead in the eyes of the UNSC? Would Epsilon be captured, or would he stay free? Marley didn't know, _couldn't_ know, but her blood was singing in anticipation for the answer. They arrived at the beacon's location and eyed the prone body warily. "Hey Oregon... you got anything on this?" Wash asked. Marley sighed.

"It's Tex," she said. "She's back in Black." The men groaned and Flowdie smacked the back of her helmet. "Sorry, couldn't resist. Okay, approach with caution. No knowing what Tex has set up for us." And that was when a circle of ominous little lights lit up around them.

"Fudgeberries," Flowdie ground out before everything went to crazytown.

/*/

Meanwhile, at the Tool Shed (*author smacks narrator * Wrong franchise! *glares * 'But it's just _there!_ On a metaphorical silver platter! How could I not use it?!' *sighs * Fine. But just this once! Original joke from Yugioh GX Abridged referencing the Slifer Red Dorm. Okay, disclaimed. Continue. 'Stickler.' Hey! If I have to keep disclaiming _RvB_ I'm gonna disclaim signature jokes! Now stop arguing and tell our readers what's happening at the O-) Caboose heard the recovery beacon from Church and ran off to tell the Reds, Kai, and Doc about it. "Sargent! Sargent!" he called. Red turned to the simple soldier while Dex jerked and fell over.

"What do you want, blue?" Red asked, eying the poor man warily. No-one ever knew what kind of madness would come from Caboose getting something _right_.

"I need your help!" Caboose wailed. Dex moaned and held a hand to his helmet as his forceful awakening gave him one heck of a headache and rendered him only semi-conscious.

" _Our_ help?" Rick asked, quirking an eyebrow at the blue. While it wasn't a terrible idea, it was one that usually wouldn't come from _Caboose_.

"Yes!" said Blue wailed. "Church is hurt! They must have gotten to him and Tex." The conscious Reds shared a looked while Al sighed and Kai eyed him curiously. Tucker had wondered off to stock up on ammunition as soon as the beacon went active for Epsilon, knowing that Caboose wouldn't let them sit on the sidelines, not matter what Al told him.

"Wait wait wait," a bleary Dex said, waving his hand in a distracted manner as he pulled himself into an upright position with the aid of a conveniently placed barrel. "Who did what with a text?"

"Caboose says something happened to Epps and that the Phantoms must have gotten to him and Tex," Rick said. Dex nodded and pushed himself to his feet.

"Good. Let them fight it out. Freelancer vs ex-Freelancer in a fight for the ages. Leave me out of it. Ugh... how Marley went on a frontal assault mission after letting Al loose in her brain I have no clue," he said, rubbing his head and muttering about Hunter sized hangovers and pan-galactic gargle-blasters. Rick hummed.

"You do appear a bit unsteady. What happened?" he asked, mildly concerned.

"Well, I managed to beat a little Loyalty and Honesty into Gary, so that's a plus," Dex said, then wavered slightly with a faint moan. "On the other hand, he got along _real_ well with my Sarcasm and Bravery Aspects." Rick wondered if he should wince at that or not. "They got into a wrestling match, of all things." Okay, yeah, he should wince.

"Ouch," Rick hissed, giving a full-body wince. And no, asking how he managed that won't get you an answer. Or at least, not one you'd be satisfied with.

"No kidding," Dex grunted. "Anyone know where I can find some Aspirin and a bottle of water? Maybe a hard root beer?"

"No, we have to rescue them!" Caboose maintained, acting like that exchange hadn't happened at all. Rick and Dex gave him flat looks.

"Okay, there's being slow... and then there was being as dense as tungsten," Rick remarked. "Guess which one you are."

"Dude... you're _still_ on that?" Kai asked, giving him a rather surprised look.

"Too bad Tucker missed that," Eagle remarked dryly. Kai nodded.

"He would have loved that one. Seeing him high-five Rick would have been a nice memory," she agreed.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Doc asked Dex, completely ignoring the others. Eagle noticed and snorted.

"Yeah, it is kind of nice to see Doc finally accepting the Blood Gulch Way, isn't it?" Kai said. Eagle chuckled softly and tapped his helmet. "Recording for posterity? Huh, I didn't think it was _that_ momentous."

"Oh, not Doc. You," Eagle said. Kai shot him a look. "You read me like a book. It was... impressive," the sniper explained.

"Huh, that's... nice?" she said.

"Two in front of me, four behind your back," Dex told Doc dryly. "Now can we get back to the part where we tell Caboose it's a bad idea to charge in after _Agent Texas_ when she's about to have a grudge match with no less than _five_ Phantoms?"

" **But they'll die!** " Caboose cried, waving his arms for emphasis. "Sargent, please!" Dex looked over to Red.

"You want to take this one Red?" he asked. "I mean, I know the best way to convince you to do something _isn't_ 'the Blues might die if we don't' but hey! Maybe you'll surprise us."

"Ya sure Gary didn't get along with your Humor Aspect?" Rick asked.

"Oh, sure they did! And boy am I glad, his idea of a good joke was a _knock-knock joke!_ I mean, once or twice, maybe, but every time you try to be funny? Dude, no. Just... no," Dex answered.

"Cowboy up, Caboose. I'm coming with you," Re said. Rick and Dex nearly gave themselves whiplash turning to give the man incredulous looks.

"What?" Dex asked.

"I said, I'm helping him," Red repeated. Rick and Dex shared a look while Eagle summed their thoughts up pretty well.

"I think the world just broke," the sniper remarked in an awed voice, staring at his superior officer.

"Uh... why on earth would you ever help a Blue for no reason?" Dex asked.

"Who are you and what have you done with Red?" Rick added.

"We'll need weapons. How'd your equipment test go, Simmons?" Red said, apparently still possessing the skill of Selective Hearing from his Blood Gulch days.

"Well, I now have Super-Speed so... that's cool," Rick admitted with a shrug.

"Oh, and he found a whole crate of Magnum ammunition then _pulled a can of spray paint out of fudging nowhere_ and marked it. Just saying," Al put in.

"Oh yeah, nearly forgot about that," Rick chuckled, clearly enjoying being able to mess with the A.I.

"Good," Red nodded. "Dex?"

"Eh, I found the pugel sticks and this real delightful experimental stuff that I _think_ is supposed to _electrify_ on contact with the air. Oh, and I bonded with Gary. We're cool now," the other Sargent said with a careless shrug. "Still not going though. I'm done fighting Marley. Besides, even if you _hadn't_ decided to quit, we're the same rank now remember? Heck, in the Project, I outrank you as the Senior Field Agent. You can't make me go."

"I'm not telling," Red said, striding off toward where he was fairly sure there was shotgun ammo. "I'm not even _asking_." That got Dex to stand a little straighter.

"Okay, this might be weirder than when Marley told me you were _glad_ Dex was getting a promotion," Rick remarked while Dex stammered out a disbelieving,

"You're not?"

"Nope," Red said, disregarding Rick's comment. "I'm going. That's it. You wanna come, come on, but I don't expect you to. Rick will probably tell you that statistically, some of us might die," he went on as he loaded up.

"Eh, maybe just the Blues, though Tucker might be a bit tougher than the others. And Caboose is pretty sturdy. Still, we're all gonna get busted up pretty good, at least," the aforementioned red conceded.

"Like I said, some of us might die," Red said. "But that's not what's important. Let me ask you three a question," he continued, finally stilling in his preparations and turning to face his squad. "You ever wonder why we're here?" The other three reds managed to share a three-way look.

"It does seem to be one of life's great mysteries," Dex allowed, the other two nodding beside him.

" _No_ , I mean **you!** What are _you_ doing here? You usually act like you wanna quit, but heck, you could have left whenever you wanted. No-one would have stopped you. So why are you here? And you, Rick," Red ranted, pinning the other Sargent in place with his steely helmet before turning to the tech of the team.

"Me?" Rick asked, even going so far as to point at himself after looking around as if there was another Rick around.

"You say you wanna be in charge. They would have given you your own squad a _dozen_ times over. You know it, and I know it, but you're _still here!_ " Red said before turning to Eagle. "Frank, from day one, you've stood firm against wise crack after demeaning comment. You scored a hit on T _ex_ even before you got training from Marley! Yer one of the strongest men I know! Character-wise at least," he said, casting a glance toward Dex. The Raging Hawaiian huffed over his crossed arms but made no comment, waiting to see what else his one-time Commanding Officer would say. Seeing no action coming from his side of the court, Red turned his attention to the Blues. "And you Tucker! As much as it pains me to admit to this, you're actually alright at being a soldier."

"Yep. World break," Eagle quipped, earning himself a swat on the shoulder from Dex, who seemed to be recording the rant.

"I am?" Tucker asked, understandably confused by this turn of events.

"I know you like to make your rude comments, pretend like it all doesn't matter. But an entire alien race chose you to be their hero! So why are _you_ here? And Caboose," Red said, turning to the soldier who started him on his ranting and finding himself without words. "It's good to see you," he said, having nothing else.

"Thanks. I'm really enjoying this speech so far," Caboose answered and it was at that moment that the others realized... that was exactly what Red was doing. He wasn't ranting, he wasn't loosing his mind. He was giving an inspirational speech. Still, it was going to take a little while for it to really sink in.

"Al, you..."

"Skip me, old man. I'm an A.I. I already know the point you're trying to make here," Al said, a hint of a smile in his voice.

"Well," Red blustered for a moment, clearly not having expected getting derailed like that. "maybe you're all here because this is the only place you fit in. Maybe you're here because you don't have anywhere else to go. Maybe you're all here because, deep down, you _want_ to be here. The reason doesn't matter. What matters is that you're here! For all we know, Tex and Epps are dead. That means we're the only ones who can prevent them from covering it up. SO the way I see it, these Freelancer guys wanna _use_ us, take us away from our families, and send us all over the galaxy just to test if their agents are ready for the big fight? Well, I guess I'm interested in showing 'em exactly what a big fight is all about! Time to clean the slate. So, I'm not ordering you to go. I ain't even askin'. You do what you gotta do, Sargent Grif." Dex sighed and checked the ammo level in his BR.

"Guess I'm gonna have to find a drop ship then. Heaven knows it'd take you till next Christmas if _you_ drove, Red," he said, giving his once-CO a roguish grin. Red chuckled and gave the other Sargent a thankful nod.

"I think I saw a Pelican around here..." Rick said, already stalking off.

"Dude... how are you sharpening those knives _by twirling them in the air?!_ Heck, how are you making it look _bad-ass?!_ " Dex demanded, following his defiant-of-universal-laws teammate who was indeed trailing sparks from his twirling knives.

"I'm awesome, that's how. Do keep up," Rick shot back.

"Careful, McAwesome Knives. I just might drop you out the airlock," Dex growled. Rick stopped the flow of Smug from his knife skills and settled for motioning to the Pelican with a dramatic flourish.

/*/

Back at the Ice Fort, the Phantoms were spread out, moaning in pain. Whether it was from their splitting headaches, the concussive force, or bruised bones and bleeding wounds was up for debate though. Marley coughed, rolling onto her side. "I _told you_ it was Tex," she muttered darkly.

"I thought she was dead," Wash moaned back before rolling over to reach for his gun.

"Don't sound so disappointed, you'll make me cry," Tex remarked dryly as she stepped on his arm, clearly not too torn up. Still, there was another emotion in there as well. What was it? Surprise? Unease? Eh, Wash'd figure it out when his head wasn't spinning. "Where's the Director?"

"How should I know?" York asked, trying to push himself out of the snow and failing as his body reminded him he'd just survived a large scale concussive blast. He fell over as his arms shook and his inner ear told him left was up and up was down.

"Tsk tsk tsk, wrong answer," Tex said, aiming her gun at the tangled mass of Phantoms. Flowdie tackled her, the both of them sliding across the frozen plain while Marley scrambled over to Epsilon, whose robotic body was acting surprisingly human. His weapon having been tossed aside by the explosion, Flowdie chased after Tex and attempted to punch her. Unfortunately, his attack was far too telegraphed and Tex was easily able to spin around him and punch him down into the freezing powder that coated the hard ground. Hitting with a grunt and skidding a pace or five, Flowdie was nonetheless pleased to find he'd come to a stop next to a sniper rifle. Whether it was his, York's, or North's he hadn't the faintest idea, but he wasn't one to look a gift rifle in the muzzle. By the time he was in position to fire, however, York had engaged Tex in a round of fisticuffs. The smaller Agent ducked and weaved around York's jabs with an enviable ease, analyzing his fighting style. Once she did, she stopped dodging and started blocking, waiting for an opportunity. In a moment, she saw her chance and took it, knocking York's arm up high and drove the heel of her palm up under York's jaw, forcing his head back and disorienting him. Again. Placing a hand on either shoulder, Tex pulled the taller Phantom down and slamming his visor into her rising knee. York stumbled back from the force, his head ringing, before Tex's spinning side kick sent him flying. Flowdie took the shot, but somehow Tex avoided it. No-one caught quite how she did it, but somehow Tex made the snow explode beside her and toss up a mini-gun.

"Okay, I call bull," Flowdie groused, already scrambling for a better position. Bad memories of the Chain Gun Siblings were threatening to swamp him. 'I wonder if this is what PTSD is like,' he wondered for a moment before those thoughts were driven into a dark corner of his mind by the aforementioned mini-gun revving up. Bullets sprayed York's location, slowly making their way toward the other Phantoms. They must have realized this because not only was York running, but North had decided to charge Tex as well. This was both good and bad because while it did distract Tex from filling York full of bullets, it caused her to whack the other sniper in the head with approximately 85 pounds of metal and gunpowder. This, understandably, sent North flying with a cry of pain.

"Thanks North! Your sacrifice shall not be forgotten!" York hissed through the comms as he took advantage of Tex's distraction to hide behind a large boulder. Wash pulled out the capture unit and decided to try his hand at attacking the fearsome lady who was back at firing at York, who was hiding behind his rapidly deteriorating boulder. The minigun clicked empty and York dropped his hand to his hip and let out a happy noise when he found a pistol there. Pulling it free, he aimed over the crumbled top of his boulder (he was going to miss it) and fired at Tex to keep her attention. The Freelancer in question dropped her spent gun and twisted away from York's bullets to fetch up against a spire of ice. A swift elbow to the backside of the spire and Tex had two fresh weapons.

"Seriously, how did she set that up?" Flowdie questioned, deciding that, if the others were going to keep getting in his way, he was just going to try and find all of Tex's hidden surprises with a combination of his sniper scope and thermal scanners, though what he could do with that information was sorely limited. Meanwhile, Tex was returning York's fire with a SMG and BR combo.

"Ugh, it's like fighting _Dex_ ," North muttered as he pulled himself back up.

"Don't you mean fighting Dex is like fighting _Tex_?" Marley asked.

"Hey, no comments from the non-combatants!" North barked, casting about for his own weapon and finding a discarded BR. "Score!" Right then, Tex ducked out of the way of Wash's capture spike and the two squared off, York frantically casting about his person for more bullets. Wash held the capture unit in a reverse grip and used it to catch and then knock away Tex's BR, throwing her arm out and opening up her side. Tex jumped back to avoid the backswing and brought her left arm up to catch his overhead strike. A quick twist and the capture unit went sailing to the left of their skirmish.

"No!" Wash yelled, eyes involuntarily following the unit's path. York, who had realized he had no spare ammo, decided to join the slug fest and ran out from behind his boulder (he missed it already) while Wash dived after the still sliding capture unit. Sliding on his stomach, Wash managed to grab the sorry thing before it fell off the ice shelf they were fighting on. "Be more careful! This thing can't take any more hits," Wash admonished.

"Wash, I don't think this is a capture mission for them anymore," Marley remarked. "She tried to blow them up, she's shooting at them, and she's shooting at their teammates. This is personal." Wash sighed but couldn't argue with that.

"Then why aren't you fighting her?" he asked. "They're your teammates too."

"Wash. She took out York, Wyoming, and Maine in a three-on-one death match. You watched her do it! And that was _before_ York lost an eye and Maine's mind got turned to mush by the various A.I. he crammed in there under the direction of Sigma. I'm a combat medic. Emphasis on _medic_. I have to stay alive to treat you idiot yahoos once she's done tenderizing you!" Marley snapped, glaring at the steel-gray figure she could just barely make out through the flying snow.

"WHOA!" York yelled, flying into the mountain side. Oh, and rag-doll agents. Those were there too.

"Ah. I see your point," Wash allowed, watching the man peel himself out of mildly shattered ice and falling to the snow with a muffled 'oof.' Tex, now with a little bit of breathing room, pulled out a detonator remote and activated the explosives she'd rigged on the ice mountain.

"Yikes!" Flowdie exclaimed, diving off the ledge he'd somehow managed to get to and landing beside Marley as a good portion of the cliff side cracked and slid down to crash onto the battlefield. "Come on! How did she set this up?!" the man asked the love of his life.

"No clue, Flowdie. No clue," Marley told him as she, along with Flowdie and Church, watched North, York, and Wash attempt to use the falling rocks to their advantage against Tex. Wash swung at her with the capture unit but was blocked. They traded a few blows before York found a spare BR and North picked up the sniper rifle Flowdie had dropped when he jumped ledge and the two proceeded to fire at Tex. Wash got kicked away, the capture unit falling away, and York closed in, scoring a glancing blow to her head.

"York! Get the capture unit!" Wash called.

"WHY?!" the man yelled back, still shooting at Tex.

"She's just a memory!" Marley informed him through the radio. "She's an offshoot of Epsilon!"

"So... if we turn her in, it'll be like turning in Epsilon?" North asked. "Snap! I'm out of ammo!"

"Maybe? Not sure," Marley remarked, making sure that their conversation couldn't be heard by Epsilon.

"Eh, worth a shot," York said. "North, think you could get the CU?"

"Sure," North answered, running up a falling rock and leaping toward the main scuffle. "Just keep her attention off of me!" York laughed, though he was sounding a bit winded.

"Oh sure, that'll be _easy_ ," he quipped. The others, minus Wash, smirked. It was kind of nice to be able to banter like this. Of course, it'd be nicer if they _weren't_ fighting for their lives but hey, beggars couldn't be choosers now could they?

/*/

Meanwhile, Dex was reaching the end of his rope. "Seriously you guys? There is a perfectly serviceable _bank of chair_ in the back. With _harnesses!_ " he snapped at the many bodies crowding the cockpit.

"Ooh! What does this do?" Kai asked, reaching toward a button. Dex slapped her hand with a rather solid blue-gray baton.

"We had those?" Eagle asked, eying the length of metal.

"No. I found some batons when we were exploring the facility and took two," Dex answered, waving his baton menacingly at the crowd. "Now get back into the seating area before I start cracking heads! Except for you Kai. I'm going to try my hand at teaching you how to fly," he said. Not wanting to find out if Dex could really follow through with his threat, the others trooped off to their seats and buckled in. Especially Rick who hadn't forgotten Dex's threat to dump him out of the airlock.

"How are you going to teach me when I'm sitting behind you?" Kai asked, strapping herself into the co-pilot's seat.

"Gary? Would you point out the instruments I name to Kai?" Dex asked.

"As you wish," Gary answered, popping up in front of Kai. "I will be assisting Dex in instructing you today," he told the surprised young woman.

"Cool," Kai said and so the two Grifs shared a touching sibling bonding moment as they flew to the fight of the year... or month, it was hard to tell with these guys. Sometimes, there was something big happening every five minutes and then, two days later, nothing. Those graces periods always fluctuated though. Kai had a working theory that the bigger the event, the longer the grace period. Which meant that after this, they'd have at least a week, maybe closer to a month. Three on the outside.

/*/

Meanwhile, on the ice shelf, the Freelancers/Phantoms were dodging falling spires of ice and York had, somehow, managed to grab the capture unit. As York tried to close in, Wash kept Tex occupied. A knee to the face was caught and shoved back down, a wild hay-maker from the left was blocked, then a flying double kick from York was dodged, sending him crashing back into the snow while Tex rolled backwards to avoid a falling piece of mountain. Annoyed, York kicked the large rock with all his might. "AH-HOW! How did Maine _do_ that?!" he yowled, activating his healing unit to deal with the pain in his leg. Tex leapt on top of the large piece of cliff-side, which had been moved across the snow just enough to be in the perfect position to send her flying when another piece landed on the end.

"That was convenient," North muttered. Wash run up another rock spire that was elevated, firing at Tex.

"So's that!" York countered, trying to find an opening. Tex landed on the tip of a vertical fragment and the tan soldier tried to reach her by running up that one, but the Beta A.I. used the force of the falling spire to launch her higher and away. Wash and York chased her through the debris field, North circling around the back to box her in. Before they cleared the falling stone, Tex punched a large portion of rock at Wash and York. Wash dodged under while York threw himself off a still airborne rock, only to be met halfway by Tex who had run up a rocky incline. She grabbed him by his reared back fist and the underside of his helmet, used their momentum to flip herself over him and bear him to the ground, and delivered a punishing blow to his back as she landed with him bent over her shoulders. Tossing the groaning lockpick into the air, Tex kicked him out of the fight, forcing North to jump over his knocked out friend.

"Come on, Tex. Do we really have to fight?" North pleaded, still holding the capture unit. Tex didn't dignify the question with a response and charged once more. Yelping quietly, North began to fire at the female robot, driving her back behind cover. Shortly after, a line of explosions went off and the ground fractured, the ridge the Freelancers had been fighting on breaking apart and falling into the frozen sea in a macabre parallel to their team of professionals.

"You gotta be kidding me," Wash moaned. North tossed the capture unit to Wash and dragged York's dead weight onto his shoulders.

"This isn't my idea of fun!" the sniper yelled back to the former rookie as he struggled to run with his friend _and_ jump from falling rock to falling rock in an attempt to reach stable ground. Unable to argue, Wash focused on running. Somehow, they all managed to reach the relatively untouched portion of the battlefield. The less said about how it happened the better in Wash's opinion and as for North... well. He would never live it down. For some reason, Flowdie and Marley found the whole thing highly amusing and York was almost sad he was unconscious for it. Almost.

"Dagnabit, woman! What else did you manage to set up in the _two hours_ it took us to get here?!" Wash demanded once he was on solid ground once more.

"Really, Wash? Really?" Marley asked.

"Did you forget the spray paint and glitter bombs already, Wash?" Flowdie asked. Wash groaned while Marley snickered and North decided to get the show on the road by going after Tex with his combat knife. Tex matched him in kind and there was a brief dance of flashing steel before Tex's knife wound up in North's shoulder. Before Tex could do anything more, York recovered enough to stab the capture unit into Tex's shoulder.

"Fair turn about, eh Tex?" he asked her.

"NO!" screamed Epsilon, running toward them as the two Freelancers let Tex's empty shell fall to the snow, faint traces of oil giving it a golden sheen in some cruel mockery of blood. "Stop! Let her out of that thing!" he cried, coming to a stop next to them.

"We can't, the unit is failing," Wash tried to explain, having noticed that the stress of the battle had been almost too much for the device to handle. Epsilon looked sadly down at the cold body of the one he still thought of as the woman he loved. "Epsilon," Wash said, not noticing his words were falling on deaf ears, "it's over. You're coming with us." That got Epsilon's attention.

"I'm not going _anywhere_ with you! We can fight you!" the A.I. said. Marley snorted.

"We? What makes you think I'm gonna fight them?" she asked.

"We will," Epsilon went on, choosing not to hear the woman's refusal.

"Pretty sure _we_ won't," Flowdie muttered while Wash sighed.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said, sounding completely unrepentant. "York, give me the memory unit." They stood there for a moment before Wash looked over at his friend. "York?"

"Ya know... I had a thought... why did they need Epsilon? Were the files not enough? Would Tex be enough? What's so special about Epsilon?" York asked, turning to Wash. Before anyone could explain anything, a sniper round came out of nowhere and put North firmly out of commission, Wyoming followed, knocked York out _again_ , stole the memory unit, and turned on an invisibility unit.

"What... the heck? Wyoming?!" Wash shouted.

"That's it, we're done here. Flowdie! Grab North! I've got York and Epsilon," Marley declared as she dragged the distraught A.I. further from the battlefield, York over her shoulders.

"I take it you didn't see this coming," Flowdie remarked dryly as he helped North away as well.

"Oh no. This is _completely_ out of left field. Wyoming was _technically_ supposed to die in Blood Gulch via time-loop aware Tucker and an energy sword." Flowdie and North both shot her look. "Yeah. Safe to say, we are firmly off script here." What she didn't mention was that Wyoming had merely taken the place of a Meta who decided he wanted an A.I. again and so stole Tex to fill that perceived need.

"I'll try to hold him!" Wash declared, going for the sacrifice play. Wyoming showed he wasn't _all_ bad at hand to hand and drove Wash, who had jumped on his shoulders, into the snow. "Guah!"

"Is that all you have, Washington?" the rouge taunted. Growling, Wash pushed himself to his feet and fired at the spot he suspected Wyoming to be. Of course, the footprints in the snow were kind of a giveaway. They traded bullets until Wyoming had Wash trapped under a small overhang.

"I knew you were alive, Wyoming, I just can't believe... can't believe..." Wash tried, but found words failed him as he noticed something behind his old teammate. The faint shimmer of a cloaked form turned to see what had Wash stunned and the form of a smoking Pelican could clearly be seen by the both of them. "I can't believe it," Wash finally managed to say, staring at the approaching ship.

/*/

Red, who for some unknown reason had come to front of the Pelican, pointed to Wash. "There they are! Land right next to them!" he declared.

"Right. Land," Dex drawled through grit teeth. He wasn't too sure about landing in a craft as damaged as theirs.

"You do know how to land this vehicle don't you?!" Red demanded.

"Oh, sure!" Dex replied, mind racing to figure out how to do so safely with a ship that was literally falling apart at the seams. "It would just be a lot easier if _someone_ hadn't gotten us _shot at_ and I still had a _whole ship!_ " Kai wisely stayed silent and strapped into her seat.

"Oh, skits! This is gonna _suck!_ " Tucker yelled.

"I still haven't gotten my peanuts," Caboose remarked dully from the back. Dex growled and blocked them all out as the frozen landscape swiftly rose to met him and he tried his hardest to level out. His task was made much harder as his left aft engine fell off. He managed to get the nose up and their speed reduced just enough to turn a crash landing into a skid landing, but it was still rough and the left fore engine joined its aft brother in death. None of the occupants of the Pelican noticed Marley and Flowdie dodging out of their way with the incapacitated members of their party. As the ship came to a stop Dex finally unclenched his jaw.

"So glad we had seat belts," he remarked before turning around to examine the rest of the crew. "Is everybody ok back there?" he asked.

"Super duper, Dex!" Eagle called sarcastically.

"Let's do that again!" laughed Kai.

"Ah! The references! They won't stop!" yelled Chi.

"We're a bit shook up but we should be fine," Doc told Dex, steadfastly ignoring Chi.

"Cut it a little close there, didn't you Dexter?" Marley remarked as she stepped around the still smoking Pelican.

"I would say that was the cavalry, but I've never seen a line of horse crash into the battlefield from outer-space before," Wash remarked halfway between deadpan and snarky as he stepped out from behind a tree, Epsilon not far behind.

"Hey," Epsilon began slowly, "is it possible for a memory fragment out of an Artificial Intelligence program enclosed inside a robotic body to piss its pants? Because I'm pretty sure I just did that."

"Come on," Wash ordered. "Let's see how many of your friends survived that."

"You know they're not really my friends," Epsilon said.

"That's okay. I'm sure none of them really survived," Wash told him without giving him a chance to add, 'they're the ones who encouraged Tex to take me out here.' If he'd waited the extra moment, Wash might actually have felt sorry for his former A.I. Still, Epsilon ran ahead to 'greet' the BGC. Over by the totally destroyed ship, Red was trying to pin the damage on Dex.

"Grif! Look what you did to our ship!" Red bellowed.

"Okay, two things there Red. A, I wasn't the one to take us into that group of salvagers and B, it's a Freelancer ship so why do _you_ care?" Dex countered.

"Eh, good point, fudge it," Red said, kicking the wreck over the side of the cliff and causing it to crash on the ice below, breaking the large sheet apart.

"Has anyone seen Tex?" Epsilon asked, prompting Al to groan.

"I'm sorry, Epsilon. York captured her in the memory unit," Wash said, choosing to ignore the other cobalt wearing sniper-toting soldier on the ice plain.

"There it is!" Epsilon cried desperately, running over to where the damaged unit lay in the snow, faintly pulsing red. "Over here! Help!" Wash ran over to the distraught A.I. while the rest stood back.

"We flew all this way... for a _soap opera?!_ " Eagle hissed, feeling gypped.

"Shush! I want to see how Wash will handle the jilted Church!" Red reprimanded, watching the unfolding drama intently.

"Always knew he was weird," Dex muttered.

"Epsilon, there's nothing we can do. She's stuck in there," Wash said evenly. Epsilon couldn't live with that, couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that Tex might well be gone forever.

"So, let her out," he said, as though it were the easiest thing in the world.

"Fudge this, I'm breaking this angst-fest up," Tucker declared as he ran toward the two, Caboose swiftly overtaking him.

"We rigged it so it's one way," Wash explained as the other two blues came to a stop behind him.

"Come on boys! I want a front row seat!" Red declared and ran toward Epsilon's side with Rick and Dex following.

"We didn't want you to escape again," Wash finished as the Reds arrived. Kai and Doc held back to chat with Flowdie and assist with North and York, respectively.

"Well, _un_ -rig it!" Epsilon demanded. Rick bit back a scathing comment on impossibility and short circuits.

"I'd need to get it to a lab, somewhere with tools," Wash explained.

"Simmons!?" Epsilon tried, half turning to the red.

"Epps, he's the expert on this kind of tech. I'm not sure I'd be helping," Rick told him, though part of him was itching to fiddle with the annoying device.

"And it's in no condition to move," Wash went on.

"He's right about that," Rick muttered, moving forward before he could stop himself. "This thing has taken a _lot_ of damage, likely from the fight it took for York to capture Tex in the first place."

"If it locks down before I can get it open, she'll be trapped in there," Wash continued, though he did offer Rick a nod of agreement.

"Still, I guess we could try something," Rick said, shooting a look toward Alpha. If he had to guess, Rick would say the A.I. was gritting his digital teeth.

"If I let her out, you have to come with me," Wash bargained, prompting Rick to pull a knife. Wash would deny that he flinched at the sight of a knife in the maroon soldier's hands.

"Yes, fine, just get her out!" Epsilon relented, completely defeated by his greatest weakness... the memory of his wife.

"Caboose, Tucker, get in the base and see if you can find some tools," Wash ordered. The reds groaned as the two blues ran off to follow Wash's orders.

"Seriously?" Rick moaned.

"Called it," Red muttered.

"Oh, when did you call _this?!_ " Dex demanded.

"You three, find me anything that has power. Anything and everything," Wash ordered the reds. "We're gonna need a lot to keep it online."

"Why are we following his orders?" Dex asked as they ran. "And why did you have to _say something!?_ " he added with a glare toward Rick.

"Because it's the right thing to do?" the tech tried.

"That's not what Al said," Dex groused.

"I can get her out," Epsilon declared to the memory unit as the reds ran away. Wash turned to him in shock.

"What? No."

"It's my only option," Epsilon maintained, turning to Wash.

"I need you Epsilon. You're my only ticket out of this mess," the Freelancer told him seriously. "If you get stuck in there they'll never believe me. I'm _not_ going back to prison."

"I can do it," Epsilon declared firmly.

"No! I won't let you!" Wash countered, just as firm. No way was he letting his freedom slip away again!

"You can't stop me," Epsilon told him, sounding like he'd made some grand discovery. "I have to help her. She's here because of us."

"Because of me?" Wash asked.

"Not you. US. Me, and Alpha. And the Director," Epsilon said, Marley not missing the tone of disgust toward the Director.

"You started to remember," Wash said, pleasantly surprised.

"I found journals from the Director," Epsilon corrected then turned to the memory unit. "She's someone from his life. Someone he lost. Someone he loved." Understanding flooded through Wash's mind.

"Allison," he breathed with a slight nod. "Her name was Allison."

"Allison," Epsilon repeated with a hint of fond nostalgia. Wash and Kai almost felt like they were intruding on some deeply personal moment. "When they made Alpha, she came back," Epsilon began again, turning to Wash. "She was a... byproduct... of the process," he explained, though it sounded like he didn't appreciate Allison being labeled a 'byproduct.'

"She's just a shadow," Wash told the A.I. gently.

"Don't call her that!" Epsilon snapped. "She died in her real life and that's all the Director ever remembered of her. So now, no matter how tough she is, no matter how hard she fights, she's always going to fail. Because that' what she's based on. No matter what she's doing, or what she's trying to accomplish, just when her goal is within her reach it gets yanked away. Every. Single. Time. Can you imagine what that's like?" he finished. Kai had to admit, the story got her all choked up, and Wash really wasn't much better off.

"Better love story that Twilight," Marley muttered to Flowdie. The man shot her a look.

"Don't ruin the mood, Marley," he admonished. "Hearing him admit it is touching." A moan sounded and the unit stood up, drawing the attention of A.I. and solider alike. "Uh oh."

"DARN IT, REGGIE! YOUR TIMING IS THE _WORST I SWEAR!_ " Marley bellowed, pulling out her personal weapon and firing just below the memory unit, hoping to catch Wyoming in the relatively unprotected region of his waist.

"I think I'm starting to get the idea," Wash remarked dryly as Wyoming dodged the syringe while fading back into view.

/?/

A/N: Hey guys! Yeah, I'm not dead. This fic isn't dead. I just... had a hard time with the fight scene? Anyway, it's done and dusted and Wyoming is back for round two! With a semi-faulty invisibility unit! Yea? Anyway, I have no clue when the next episode will be done and I'm starting college this August so... yeah. I'm about to enter Super Crazy-ville and once I do any 'spare' time I have is likely going to be devoted to making sure I don't go under or working on scholarships for next term. Ugh.


	54. Episode 51

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB.

 **Episode 51:** The Closing of a Chapter

Dex shook his head as he and Rick attempted to sort through parts and supplies. "What, exactly, are we looking for?" Dex asked, pulling back to lean against the wall.

"Batteries, power cells, anything," Rick said, voice muffled slightly by the crate his head was stuck in. Dex blinked, leaning his gun against his shoulder as he regarded his comrade and his ridiculous position.

"What is the difference? Ya know, at my level," he asked curiously, knowing that if he didn't clarify Rick would numb his brain with SCIENCE!

"Not the time, Dex!" Rick hissed, head still stuck in a crate, just before a muffled explosion went off outside.

"Really? I always thought the battlefield was the perfect place for banter," Dex shot back, pushing off of the wall and dropping his gun back down into his hands as he made his way toward the exit.

"You hear that?" Red asked over Dex's 'witty' comment, also moving for the door.

"Oh shut up," Rick growled, pulling himself from the crate and taking his gun back up.

"Come on boys!" Red called, running toward the explosion site.

"Remember the days when we ran _away_ from explosions?" Dex asked as he followed.

"Nope," Rick answered honestly, shouldering a rocket launcher.

"Huh. Ya know, neither do I," Dex realized. As the Reds exited the base, Epsilon was thrown into their path by an explosion.

"Whoa! What happened here?" Rick asked, looking down at the Blue with Tucker and Caboose not far behind.

"Wyoming. There," Epsilon answered, barely twitching toward where Washington and Alpha were shooting at something.

"And here I was worried we wouldn't get to kick a little ass today!" Red remarked cheerfully as he and his team turned to watch the 'battle.' Dex chuckled and primed his battle rifle.

"Here we go again~!" he sang as he ran forward with Rick and Red.

"Caboose! Stay with Epps!" Tucker yelled. Dex just barely heard the simple soldier reply with a 'yes' over the sound of exploding grenades.

"Blast it! Reggie found Maine's old Brute Shot I had stashed in our Pelican!" Marley snarled.

"And try not to kill him by accident!" Tucker yelled back to Caboose, whose response was drowned out by Dex bellowing,

"WHY IN THE GALAXY WOULD YOU KEEP SOMETHING LIKE THAT WHERE GUYS LIKE HIM COULD _STEAL IT?!_ " at Marley.

"I was _going_ to give it to _you!_ " Marley yelled back. Meanwhile, Washington rolled forward to gain enough distance to protect against a somewhat clumsy swipe from Wyoming. They traded a few blows before Wyoming disengaged and activated a glitch-ridden invisibility unit. Due to his inexperience with the stealth tech, Wyoming moved too quickly and kicked up puffs of powder. Using these disruptions to the snow's surface, Washington was able to track his opponents movement and threw his bloodied knife into Wyoming's shoulder. A burst of gunfire was replied to with a blast from the Brute Shot and Washington was thrown to an old wreck of a Warthog. By this point, the Reds had arrived.

"Rah!" shouted Red.

"You're a pain in the _everywhere_ , _**Reggie!**_ " Rick called.

"DIE, FREELANCER!" bellowed Dex. Tucker just threw a grenade while Eagle was busy climbing to find a good perch. Seeing the multitude of ammunition headed his way, Wyoming backed away from the fallen Washington and utilized...

"Skits! A bubble shield!" Eagle hissed. Despite this, the Reds, and Tucker, continued to fire upon the Freelancer.

"You know you're not getting through this, right?" the man remarked.

"Oh yeah! I just enjoy watching explosions," Dex said as he lobbed a plasma grenade at the shield. Fed up, Wyoming executed a picture perfect rocket jump.

"Huh," remarked Eagle.

"That _works?!_ " Rick breathed, nigh on _reverent_.

"Nerd later, dodge now!" Dex barked, throwing himself out of range as Wyoming came back down from his explosion assisted leap, raining Brute Shot blasts down on them. Rick launched a rocket at the white armored Freelancer... who _flipped over it mid-air!_

"Dude! How'd you _do_ that?!" Rick asked as he jumped back to avoid a downward slash by the blade of the Brute Shot, Tucker and Red following his lead and jumping back.

"Skill," Wyoming said.

"Um~! Strong with this one, the Smug is," Marley remarked snidely from where she was working on the downed ex-Freelancer Agents.

"Shut up, you!" Wyoming yelled back, not noticing Tucker igniting his energy sword. Still, as Tucker swung, Wyoming managed to bring the broad side of his weapon up to block, throwing Tucker off balance. This also put Wyoming in a position to block a burst of buckshot from Red. Seeing an opening, Dex leapt onto Wyoming's back, wrapping thick arms around the rouge's neck and driving his combat knife deep into his opponent's formerly uninjured shoulder.

"Dude, you're tougher than I remember!" Dex remarked as Wyoming thrashed in his grasp. Somehow, the wiry sniper managed to dislodge the weapons expert before punching Red in the solar plexus and grabbing him by the foot.

"Dagnabit!" Red bellowed as he was swung through the snow. He tried to shoot the rogue, but couldn't get a good angle before he was sent sliding into Dex and Rick.

"Guys?" Eagle asked.

"Oh, like you didn't enjoy that!" Dex replied waspishly from his downed position in the snow as Tucker came in for a direct assault. It ended poorly for both of them with Wyoming punching Tucker in the face as the Blue yelled,

"STAB!" The twin prongs of the energy sword pierced Wyoming's shoulder _again_ , this time making a second hole under the first, which the alien sword widened. Blood poured from the wound and splattered across the already reddened snow, the blood roses from the previous battle mingling and smearing across the snowy plain.

"Wash! Come on, he needs help!" Red said to the downed Freelancer/Phantom. Dex coughed as he pushed himself up.

"Oh no, not this time," he growled, turning to glare at Wyoming. "This time... it's _personal,_ " Dex growled, picking up his rifle.

"I can't... I'm done," Wash said, picking up the hook from the Warthog. "Here, take this."

"Ah. That... could come in handy," Dex allowed before grabbing Red's shoulder. "Red, get close to Wyoming and do what you do best. Me and Rick will take care of the rest. Eagle, get down here and get Wash to Marley. Drag him if you have to, I don't care so long as he gets help. Let's move!"

/*/

Marley, for her part, was actually tearing up. "What's with you?" Flowdie asked.

"I thought they had been deprived of this bonding experience when Maine was executed," she said, earning herself a concerned look from Flowdie. "Plus, I'm just... so proud of them. Look! They've wounded Reggie! Even if they didn't send him into the drink, he'd die from blood loss within the hour. And there! Eagle's bringing me Wash! Now I can easily fake his death while integrating him into Blue Team! He'll make a great big brother figure for them! KAI! GRAB ME THE GAUZE AND BIOFOAM! THIS IS GONNA BE A BIG ONE!" Marley declared. Flowdie shook his head and eased himself back out of the way while Kai rushed to do her trainer's bidding.

"She's... really enjoying this, isn't she?" Jack asked, watching Marley and her second protegee set up for Washington.

"Yeah. Ya know... I've never seen her this in her element before," Ed remarked. "Not even when she was fixing me up after my run in with Wyoming."

"Guess her calling is the field, huh?" Jack remarked.

"No kidding," Flowdie answered. The two snipers turned to him with matching airs of, 'really dude?'

"You do know that's the chick you've been crushing on since you met her... right?" Ed asked. Flowdie shrugged.

"It's because she's so at home in the midst of chaos that I love her," he told them. "She's skilled. I don't have to worry about her when I'm gone and when we're out together, I can trust her with my back. It's perfect."

"Dude, how _anyone_ can call you a softhearted hippie is beyond me," Jack said, shaking his head. Flowdie chuckled as he shrugged.

"What can I say, I'm a strange man."

/*/

As Tucker got beat away from the weakening Wyoming, Red approached from the side. A blast of buckshot and Red had the man's attention. Unfortunately, Wyoming's deflection shields were still going strong and the blast did little damage. "Come here, you smarmy son of a bitch!" Red taunted. Wyoming growled and stalked toward the irritating Red. The mild waver in his approach hurt the intimidation factor, but the amount of blood running down his chest made up for it. No doubt about it, Freelancers were some scary resilient people. The two faced each other down in an Epic Walk sequence, Red firing shotgun shells and Wyoming's shields allowing him to shrug the impacts off and keep coming, until they were face to face and Wyoming knocked the shotgun from his enemy's hands and grabbed him by the chest plate.

"Never... insult... my _mother_ ," he growled, raising Red an inch off the ground.

"Oh no. I've lost... my _shotgun_ ," Red ground out. Dex chuckled over the comm. line.

"Moving. Get that hook on him, Red, or your opportunity is lost," he told the man. Red grunted as he unhooked the line from the back of his belt.

"Hey... Reggie. Settle a bet would you?" he asked, hooking the line to Wyoming's chest plate. "Does that thing kinda look like a big cat to you?"

"What the... ?" Wyoming asked, following Red's line of sight to see Dex and Rick shove the old Warthog off the cliff before looking down at the hook on his chest. "Oh son of a... !" he remarked, looking back at Red for a moment before he was yanked off his feet. "AAAAAHHHHHHHHH!" he yelled as he was dragged through the snow, the memory unit popping off his back as he flew ever nearer to his ultimate death. As he flew past Rick and Dex, he grabbed the nearest limb in an attempt to slow his descent into the cold depths.

"Seriously?!" Dex howled as he was dragged through the newly reddened snow after the Mad Freelancer.

"DEX!" Rick yelled, abandoning his weapon to catch his friend before the Flying Wyoming could pull him all the way over. As the doomed man roared his pain and anguish to the heavens, Rick struggled to hold his friend as he dangled from the cliff.

"Rick! Grab my hand! HELP!" Dex yelled, panic creeping into his voice. Rick felt every nerve in his body light up as he held onto Dex for dear life. He could feel every rapid beat of his heart as sweat broke out all over his body. He couldn't loose Dex, they'd been through too much for that! There was _no way_ Dex was dying on him!

"Hold on! Hold on! Don't let go!" Rick pleaded, knowing that it was rather redundant and there was no way Dex would _willingly_ let go when seventy-five percent of his body was _off the cliff!_ The weapons expert growled and, with his one free arm, slung the Brute Shot he'd stolen off of Wyoming from his back and drove it deep into the frozen ground, narrowly missing Rick's head. "Watch it!" the tech couldn't help but bite out. Dex snarled as he heaved, pulling himself further up onto the cliff.

"A bit of _help_ would be appreciated!" he snapped.

"Right right. Sorry," Rick acquiesced, shimmying back and pulling with both arms. Soon, Dex was back over the lip and lay on his back with a heavy breath.

"Let's _not_ do that again, yeah?" he asked. Rick let out a relieved laugh and collapsed beside the Hawaiian to clap a hand on his shoulder.

"You guys... are _nuts_ ," Tucker remarked. Rick and Dex both gave him a Look.

"Dude... who's the one who _charged him head on and stabbed him with a sword?!_ That guy sounds nuts to me," Rick said.

"No kidding," Dex grunted, pushing himself up out of the snow. "Man that gets cold."

"Seriously? Cra-zy!" Tucker said, shaking his head and following the Reds.

"Eh, it's in the job description. You telling me you didn't read the fine print when you signed up?" Rick asked. Tucker jumped slightly when he heard Eagle laughing over the comms.

"Dude, get with the program!" the sniper remarked.

"How do you have my frequency?!" the Blue demanded. His 'comrades' laughed so hard, they nearly fell over.

"We've had your so-called secure channel since the Singing Lopez Incident!" Dex said. Tucker grumbled as they made their way to the sparking memory unit.

"Yeah, I don't know. It's in really bad shape," they heard Doc say. "And so are you."

"Who's in bad shape?" Rick asked as he came jogging up.

"I need you to use it on me," Epsilon said, ignoring the new arrivals.

"DUDE! We just fought a fudging _civil war_ over _not giving you up_ and you want to just dive into a _faulty, highly damaged, memory unit_?!" Dex asked, highly put out.

"Besides, I'm a medic! I took an oath!" Doc protested.

"Yeah, and so did Marley. Does that stop her from beating us black and blue 'til we're bleeding out our ears before patching us back up?" Dex asked with a healthy dose of sarcasm.

"Dex... you're really not helping the whole 'let's keep Epps from diving into a faulty, highly damaged, memory unit' thing," Rick told him.

"Oh save it," Dex muttered darkly.

"Caboose, here. Pick it up," Epsilon told the infamous-for-teamkilling Blue. Caboose looked Epsilon as close to in the eye as he could and said, with the utmost of sincerity,

"I can't, Church."

"Yes, you can. You do this all the time," Epsilon said in a rather condescending tone.

"Yeah... I don't want too," Caboose said, still completely serious.

"Yeah, okay, okay, Caboose. I'm sure I can do it on my own," Epsilon said, still highly condescending.

"But what if you don't come out again?" Caboose asked softly. Dex flopped down into the snow and propped his chin up on his knee. Rick and Red swiftly followed suit, pulling Tucker down as well.

"Well, you know what Delta always said, right?" Epsilon asked, trying to sound cool.

"Memory is the key," Caboose swiftly parroted.

"If I don't come back, then... your in charge of remembering me, okay? Don't let Tucker help, he'll just mess it up," Epsilon said, causing Tucker to attempt calling out... before being swiftly silenced by the three Red Agents sitting in the snow beside him. Epsilon turned to the memory unit before saying a final, 'bye buddy,' and leaving his robot shell to fall behind him as he entered the memory unit.

"Oh, the bromance is real," Dex muttered.

"My line," Eagle sniped, coming to stand behind his team. Dex shrugged.

"You can't deny it though."

"Hey, that unit looks bad. Let me see if I can stabilize it," Rick said, clambering to kneel beside the sparking piece of technology.

"Doc, why don't you go check with Marley and them?" Red 'offered.' Doc was smart enough to realize it wasn't an offer... but an order.

"Oh no," Rick groaned as the unit began to hum.

"What? What?!" Caboose asked anxiously.

"It's only going to be open a few more seconds. After that... he's not getting out," Rick revealed. Caboose returned his attention to the memory unit.

"Come on, Church. You can do it," he encouraged. "Can you hear me? You can... _run toward my voice!_ " The unit continued to hum and emit sparks, time swiftly slipping away.

"It's shutting down! I can't stop it!" Rick growled, glaring at the tech as thought it had done him a great personal wrong. The humming and sparks stopped and the light faded. Somberly, Caboose asked,

"Church? Are you there?" Rick sighed and stood.

"Caboose..." he said, moving beside the Blue and laying a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Church?" Caboose asked. He sounded so lost and confused, Rick almost wanted to give the poor man a hug. Instead, he cleared his throat roughly, patted Caboose's shoulder, and walked off to see what else he could help with. He couldn't stand to watch the simple soldier grieve.

/*/

When the UNSC arrived, the Phantoms had already left with the real Washington. All that was left was for the Reds, in their Standard Armor, to convince the officials of _their_ version of events. "And where did the Pelican in the water come from?" the official the BGC was talking to asked.

"Wyoming. Great sniper, _terrible_ pilot. He was already missing an engine before he _attempted_ to land. I mean, who _does_ that?" Red asked. Rick was glad he'd switched off his mic because he had to try _really_ hard not to laugh while Dex twitched. The rest of the BGC could have sworn they heard the weapons expert muttering about testing blades on stone heads and buckshot brains being irritating to the point of instant hostility. They wisely stayed silent, though Red could admit to breaking out in a cold sweat. Luckily, the guy from the UNSC didn't seem to hear Dex's comments.

"Man, the Chairman's gonna be _pissed!_ The budget only allows for one crashed Pelican per mission!" the official hissed. He sighed and looked back up at the BGC. "Alright, well, I guess you guys check out. You can head back to your training bases now."

"Yeah. We'll do that," Rick muttered sarcastically inside his soundproof helmet.

"We just call them 'bases,'" Red remarked, causing the UNSC soldier to chuckle.

"I bet," he muttered.

"Hey, we solved your problem. Not bad for 'trainees,'" Dex growled, grip tightening on his BR. The others backed away from him, just a little.

"Gotta hand it to ya," the UNSC soldier allowed, standing next to the dead armor of Washington, "killing one of these agents would be tough, but _three?_ And this guy..." he turned to regard the still body of 'Agent Washington.' "The Chairman will _not_ be happy he's dead. Think he wanted to debrief him personally. Not to mention the three helping him."

"He had others with him?" Dex asked, putting on what he thought should have been an Oscar worthy performance.

"I didn't see 'em," Eagle remarked nonchalantly, inspecting his sniper rifle for water damage.

"You sure this guy had help?" Red asked, nodding toward 'Washington.'

"Yeah. There was only the one," Tucker agreed, making a vague 'one' motion with his hand.

"And the Phantoms," Caboose said with a nod. The others all turned to him.

"The what now?" Al asked, quirking his head curiously.

"You know, the Phantoms! Ed and Jack and Marley," Caboose said.

"Records say he was assisted by Freelancer Agents North Dakota, New York, and Oregon," the official offered.

"Dude... those guys are dead. Check again," Rick said, mic finally turned back on. The soldier hummed as he checked again before tilting his head in confusion.

"Huh. You're right. They _are_ listed as either KIA or MIA. Guess that checks out too," he said before nodding toward Caboose. "Might want to get him checked out. He must be seeing things."

"Oh, we already know what his problem is," Dex said. "See, _someone_ had the bright idea of rebooting his armor. While he was wearing it."

"Yikes. Yeah, that would do it. You sure he's okay with a gun?" the official asked with another pointed nod. The BCG chuckled.

"Oh yeah, just be careful how you phrase orders and don't _ever_ have him at your back in a fight," Dex said.

"Anyway, be sure to tell the Chairman we're sorry," added Al.

"Whatever. You're free to go. If we need you, we know where to find you," the UNSC guy said as he walked away.

"Come on fellas, let's go home," Red said, though he made no move to leave.

"Right. Hey, Blues! This way!" Dex called with a large, overhead wave and began leading the others away from the area. Once they couldn't hear the UNSC's equipment, Dex called Marley and the ship dropped down before them.

"All aboard~!" called Marley. Dex chuckled and hopped in before settling down in a chair with his new toys across his legs.

"Thanks for the pickup, Marley," Eagle said as he hopped up.

"Thank Niner," Marley retorted as the Blues clambered in.

"Wait... you're just going to accept the loss of Epsilon? Just like that?" Rick asked.

"After all the trouble you went through looking for him?" demanded Red.

"That's... whoa," Eagle remarked. Marley shrugged with a 'meh.'

"He's got some things he needs to sort out before he's ready to rejoin us. Besides, he's acting as bait at the moment," she answered.

"Bait?" asked Dex, interest peaked.

"Umhum. A little redheaded spitfire's gonna come after you lot looking to retrieve Epps. Actually, she's looking for the Director, same as Tex was. Only... she thinks Epps can help her find him," Marley said. "And you guys were the last ones to see him, so she'll come for you. And I am really looking forward to a certain reunion," she added, looking over at Ed.

"Wait... are you talking about... _Carolina?!_ " Wash asked, staring at Marley.

"Yes," Marley admitted.

"Wait... you said she'd find my journal entries, not _me_ ," Ed said. Marley shrugged.

"Honestly, I'm not expecting you to be around when she gets to Blood Gulch. She's... not ready to see you again, Ed. It's when she watches your journals that she allows herself to recognize that she misses you," she admitted. Ed sighed and nodded, accepting Marley's explanation. After that, it was a fairly quite ride back to Valhalla.

/*/

It was quite a sight when the Pelican touched down in Valhalla and the Reds and Blues filed out. What most people didn't know... was that there were five others there that day. Five others that were cloaked so well they appeared to disappear. "Right, okay, just give me a minute to reorient myself..." the trooper in orange muttered. "Blue Base over there," he said, pointing to the north end of the canyon where a concrete base stood, adorned with faded and tattered blue banners displaying an eagle in flight. "Red Base that-a-way," he remembered, looking to the south where an almost identical base sat, it's red snake banners just as faded and torn as their opponent's. "Cave entrances were... ah-ha! Right over there," an orange armored finger pointed to three small openings in the cliff face; one to the north, one to the south, and one on a high ledge on the west side of the canyon. "Alright! Home sweet home," the soldier sighed.

"Grif... you're being melodramatic. Stop it," a soldier in maroon armor said. The first one, Grif, scoffed.

"Melodramatic he says. Melodramatic. You want melodrama? I'll give you melodrama! _Oh! We're back! Ah, Valhalla, how I never missed you~!_ " he said, putting on an almost Shakespearean act.

"Shut it, Dirtbag!" the soldier in red bellowed. Grif swept him a mocking bow.

"Oh, but of _course_ Sarge!" he said with scathing sarcasm. "I didn't _realize_ you disliked melodrama so much! _Of course,_ I'll stop!"

"Grif... you're going to make him shoot you," the maroon soldier warned.

"Simmons. I'm _always_ about to be shot by this madman. With me, tempting fate is just another term for living," Grif explained, throwing an arm around his friend's shoulder.

"Man, those guys are _crazy!_ " a soldier in cyan remarked, watching the other three walk away, toward the south.

"Are we any better?" a man in cobalt asked.

"You do realize Grif's my brother, right?" the only woman in the group put in.

"SANDWICHES!" shouted a man in primary blue.

"What do sandwiches have to do with Grif being Kai's brother?" the cyan soldier asked.

"It's Caboose, Tucker," the cobalt soldier remarked as he turned to the north. "His purpose is comic relief."

"I thought comic relief characters were supposed to be 'plucky' and, ya know, comedic," Tucker said, following his friend.

"I've always thought Caboose was funny," Kai offered, bouncing along behind the two men.

"Are we there yet?" Caboose asked.

"Don't start with me, Caboose," Tucker said with a weary sigh.

"Okay!" the Blue chirped. "Hey Church, are we there yet?"

"Two minutes, Caboose. Two minutes," the cobalt soldier, now identified as Church, answered.

"YAY!" yelled Caboose. As the Blues and Reds entered their bases, the Unseen Five entered the caves through the entrances Grif's little playacting pointed out to them.

"Why did we have to sneak down here?" asked a woman.

"Because the surface is being watched," another answered. The Five arrived at an underground computer and the leader uncloaked to reveal a woman in black armor with and ODST helmet and maroon accents. "Okay, D, do your thing," the Woman in Black answered, waving someone forward. A moment later, and the screen lit up with a green vector drawing of a Mark VI SPARTAN. "How's it look in there, D?" the WiB asked.

"It is... sufficient, Agent Black," the A.I. told her, rendering into a more complete image. "All surveillance is now under my control. Do you wish to go dark?"

"No," Black told the A.I. "Let our boys relax and unwind a little before we make any plans. Guys, pick a bunk and unpack. Grab some rest if you can. I'm calling the BGC down after lights out. D, make sure you loop the footage of their rooms before calling for them. I don't want anyone looking too closely at this canyon... or the soldiers within it," she ordered. Four other figures uncloaked and spread out. "And now... we wait," Black said, mostly to herself, before heading inside to find a bunk for herself.

/*/

 _'It's the darkest right before dawn.'_ The name of who said those words has been lost to the foggy mists of time, but the phrase remains. As does the truth it holds... metaphorical or otherwise. It was three o'clock in the morning, standard time, when the Reds and Blues dropped down into the cavern through the secret entrances they'd dug through their storage rooms. "Seriously, when did we dig that, _why_ did we dig it, and why are we using it _now?_ " Tucker asked.

"Oh, you guys didn't dig it," Dex said as he stepped out of the shadows. "We did, then told Kai about it so that when surveillance was tightened on the canyon you guys could use it."

"Welcome... to the Resistance!" Eagle declared dramatically from the battlements(?) of the Red(?) base. Tucker pointed at him with a 'seriously dude?' tilt of his helmet.

"Yeah, we don't know," Dex drawled.

"Best to ignore him when he gets like that," Rick said from the front door. Inside they found Marley and her Phantoms sitting around a table. Actually, the Phantoms sat around it while Marley was at the head.

"Am I the only one who feels like they're crashing an Illuminati meeting?" Al asked. Marley chuckled and stood, spreading her arms wide.

"Welcome, Reds and Blues!" she declared. "I am Dr. Marlene White, former Agent Oregon of Project Freelancer and founder of the Phantoms. I came to this canyon almost five years ago and started something the far-reaching consequences of which I could not have been aware. I came to this canyon to inject a bit of drama into Red Team's life as I knew the coming trials would center around the Blue Team. Nearly five years ago I started Project Red. Honestly, I didn't have a clue what I was doing then and I don't really have much of a clue now. All I know is _one_ path the future _could have_ taken. That route is now either blasted to bits or altered so severely it's nigh on unrecognizable. And that... is a _spectacular_ realization."

"Wait wait wait... You know the future?" Wash asked. "Tell me I'm not the only one who finds that unbelievable."

"Oh-ho, you're not, trust me," Flowdie said with a laugh.

"She couldn't have saved me if she didn't have _some_ knowledge of future events," Jack added.

"My head's _still_ spinning from what she's told me," Ed agreed.

"Finished?" Marley drawled, giving the present Phantoms the gimlet eye.

"Yes ma'am!" they snapped.

"Ya know, a lot of things suddenly make a good deal more sense," Niner admitted.

"Good. Can I get on with my speech?" Marley asked.

"Yep, all good," Niner said, sitting back in her seat.

"Thank you. As I was saying, what I know of the future is worth little more than a skeleton outline if that. And as I told you on the ride over here, Carolina is going to be coming for you to help her get Epps to help her find dear old dad so she can have closure. Along the..." Marley began, only to be interrupted by just about everyone in the room exclaiming in shock. Her favorites were; 'Director be what!?' 'Carolina's _his?!_ ' and 'I have a pseudo-daughter _?!'_ "Ah, the sound of confusion. Love it~!" she sang before slamming Al's head into the table. "QUITE!" she bellowed. Once the room was under control, she grinned at them. "Yes, Carolina is the Director's daughter. If you want to see her as a pseudo-daughter, Al, then go for it. Just don't call her that to her face. If anyone can punch an A.I and make it stick, it'd be Carolina. She _is_ the real Agent Texas' daughter after all."

"Oh, what?!" Al squawked, taking a tumble out of his chair. Dex chuckled and leaned over to Rick.

"Tell me you got a video of that," he said, throat tight with repressed laughter.

"Oh yeah," Rick answered with Smug.

"Sweet~!" Dex sang. Marley sighed and shook her head.

"Family trees aside... I called you here to induct you, the BGC, into the Phantoms. That means measurements for armor, scheduling for additional training, and of course... instruction in the fine art... of _mind-bending!_ " she said, ending with relish.

"Mind-bending?" Tucker asked. Marley nodded.

"Some people have a more... _perverse_ wording for it, but yes. Mind bending. Ya know when you take a person's perceptions or understanding of the world and then... bend it. Distort it. Make them laugh along with you then stop and stare while scratching their heads. Getting them to say, 'Yeah... wait, what?' is an example of a minor mind bend. Kai's actually got a bit of a head start. So do Eagle and Dex. Rick a little bit too. Oh! And Red successfully bent the laws of physics to make himself look like a cardboard cut-out once! That was pretty epic," she said.

"You mean... we'll get to learn how to make, like, hammerspace? Like how Rick could pull maroon spray paint out of nowhere?" Al asked.

"Or how he managed to sharpen knives by spinning them in the air?" Dex added.

"Yep! Wait. When did that happen?" Marley said.

"Oh, that was when we were hiding from you while trying to come up with a plan to beat you and/or blow you up," Dex revealed.

"Huh. Man, ya leave for a month or so and you miss all the good stuff!" Marley lamented. "No matter. Yeah, you'll learn how to do insane junk like that. Out of the box thinking is your greatest asset, _use it!_ Train it. Trust it. You guys nearly had us a few times. The training we'll offer you should merely make it easier for your off the wall ideas to actually work." The BGC and the Phantoms traded looks.

"Something tells me this... is gonna be _epic_ ," Eagle said.

"Also, I've decided that every couple of meetings we'll take a break and have a sort of... story time. A Q&A session. What do you think of that? If you agree, that's how we'll spend the rest of tonight. Leave the planning and scheduling for tomorrow," Marley added.

"Q&A for the _win!_ " was the general consensus.

"Very well. What question would you like answered first?" Marley asked to get things started.

"How did you get recruited into the Project, Marley?" Dex asked. The woman in question chuckled and shook her head.

"It's not exactly a pretty story. Sure you wanna hear it?" she asked. Everyone leaned in. "Okay. It started with an attack on a research facility on Iegos."

/?/

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter and if you have any questions for the Phantoms or BGC, let me know in a review or a PM because this is my version of season 9 where a good portion of back story is added in. Until next time,

regenengel3.


	55. Episode 52

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB.

A/N: This Season is going to be 20 Episodes long: roughly ten will be back story while the other half or so will be what's actually going on in Valhalla, including Carolina recruiting them to help her get Epsilon. Also, the back story won't line up exactly with the scenes of Project Freelancer you see in the main show and you may request certain parts of any character's back story. Now that that's out of the way, here's the official beginning of Project Red's Season 9.

 **Episode 52:** The Death of Doctor White

"Iego?" asked Dex.

"Yes. A beautiful planet on the outer rim," Marley confirmed. "K-Unit were among the best of the best with a ninety-five success rate and sixty percent of its original members. I was one of the best doctors in the UNSC thus, I was assigned to K-Unit to make sure it _stayed_ that way. If we were to loose a man, it would be because I didn't get there fast enough or he was medically discharged."

"You sound rather proud of yourself," Tucker remarked. Marley gave a melancholy chuckle.

"I was arrogant is what I was," she said. "Until one of the men, guys called him Wolf, took me to the mat and _humiliated_ me before giving me a lecture that blistered my ears. Essentially it boiled down to 'you're good, but there's always someone better. You're smart, but there's always someone smarter. We're at war and if you let your ego or your confidence get too big, they will kill you and everyone around you.' I stopped calling myself _the_ best and settled for 'one of the best.' It was also Wolf who showed me I'd need to know how to fight if I was to survive in K-Unit. But I digress. This isn't Wolf's story, it's the story of how I died."

"Wait... what?" Eagle asked, leaning forward.

"This is the story of how I died, Frankie, do keep up," Marley quipped as she kicked back in her chair and swept her feet up to rest on the table. "I remember, it had been such an innocent day..." she said, eyes growing distant as her mind cast back to the series of events that lead up to the creation of Agent Oregon... only to be interrupted by Flowdie.

"Wait. Your service records say you were recruited on Sargino." Marley laughed.

"Aye, but how do you think I _survived_ Sargino?" she said. The men blinked. "Nah, Agent Oregon began on Iego when Wolf decided to teach me how to use a gun."

"Oh. So... you're telling us about how you learned to shoot?" Rick asked.

"At first, yes. I'm getting to the good part, I promise," Marley answered. "Anyway..."

/*/

The sun was high in the clear blue sky of Iego, the elegant forms of the local birds gliding through the fragrant air. I took a deep breath and smiled, glad to be alive. K-Unit's base had been attacked three days prior and no-one had come out unscathed. Patching up someone else is one thing, patching yourself up was another but it was something I'd had to become capable of. Even then, I had a gash on my left leg that had required a dozen stitches. But I digress. There were four men seriously injured from that battle, three that were stable but in critical condition and another who had a bad leg injury that had to be watched very carefully. We'd been lucky to find our current base of operations. In reality, it was a bombed out town with a few buildings close enough to structurally sound that we'd been able to hole up and set our wounded up with beds and solid walls. The patients no longer required my personal attention and a deployment of nurses had arrived so I was able to finally leave the makeshift infirmary. Letting out a weary breath, I made my way to the 'firing range.' "It really is amazing what you lot can do with a few empty bottles of bio foam and some concrete blocks," I remarked as I approached the soldiers. The men laughed and made a space for me.

"You pick up a few tricks when you're stuck in the wilderness," Wolf remarked lightly before tossing me one of the lighter guns. I took careful aim... and missed. K-Unit laughed behind me and I felt my face heat up in a blush. "Guess it's a good thing I decided to teach you, Doc!" Wolf howled. My face was burning as I glared at the man. I'd only been serving with him for a month and already he'd torn me down, laughed in my face, and now he was trying to get me to break my oath!

"You do realize that I swore an oath to do no harm, right?" I hissed at the man, doing my best to be intimidating. Just because I had sworn to do no harm didn't mean I couldn't lace his food with sedative or his drinks with laxatives. Or refuse to give him anesthetic during treatment. Oh yes, doctors were some of the _worse_ people to have upset with you, right up there with maids and cooks.

"You do realize we are at war, right?" Wolf shot back. "Look, I'm not asking you to be a killer. I'm asking you to be a protector. We won't always be able to look after you, Doc, and we need you to stay alive."

/*/

"So... you were called 'Doc' as well?" the purple armored man asked. Marley chuckled.

"Yeah. That was before I allowed people to call me Marley. I... was obsessed with maintaining professionalism. It didn't last long in the face of K-Unit though," she admitted with a wistfully fond expression. No-one quite knew how to take that and so sat in uneasy silence until the woman began to speak once more.

/*/

I huffed and took aim, seeing Wolf's words as a personal challenge. Five shots, three misses. I growled and reloaded before sighting with a fierce snarl and firing again. Wolf and the rest of K-Unit watched as I stared down the thoroughly perforated cans like they'd done me great personal wrong. "Think she'll be alright, Wolf?" one of the men asked.

"Oh, she'll be fine, Coyote. She just needed the right motivation to get her started," Wolf told him. Jackal shared looks with the other men. A moment passed and they slumped slightly with a synchronized sigh.

"Not what I meant but okay," Coyote muttered. "We're behind you, Wolf. Just... try not to break her, yeah?" Wolf laughed and threw an arm around his Lieutenant's shoulder.

"Now why would I go and do a stupid thing like that?" he asked jovially. Coyote simply gave him a flat look before correcting me, which was fortunate as I was one missed shot away from screaming profanities at the obstinate pieces of metal.

/*/

"Really? 'obstinate pieces of metal?'" asked Dex.

"I was just learning how to shoot the darned thing and those canisters were _mocking_ me, I swear!" Marley defended. "So yes. Obstinate pieces of metal. Can we move on now?" Seeing no arguments, Marley continued with her story. "I stayed at that makeshift range the rest of the day. My nurses had to drag me away I was so determined to hit my targets. I went back every day until we were reassigned to a research base on Sargino; an inhospitable place only slightly warmer than Sidewinder. We were to be stationed there for ten months. The men and I were not well pleased with this, though it did provide us with ready targets for practicing our aim. Bundled up in layer upon layer of clothing, the men of K-Unit and I would go out and wage Civil War between our forts of snow. It was... not the _best_ of times but certainly not the worst. Then came The Attack."

"You... just skipped a whole chunk of your story!" Kai protested.

"Would you really have enjoyed hearing _all three years_ that I spent on Iego?" Marley asked. Everyone else winced.

"Yeah, okay. No," Dex said.

"I didn't think so," Marley said, settling back.

"Well... practicing more or less every day for three years would account for your survival on Sargino," Rick allowed.

"Indeed," Marley drawled. "The attack came swiftly. We had no warning, only the meaty thud of our sentries falling. 'Take the research and the wounded on ahead!' I told my minions..."

"Marley, they were nurses, not underlings," Flowdie said, his face in his hand.

"Who's telling the story here, Flowdie? Besides, you weren't there," Marley snipped with a mild glare at Flowdie. He did the mature thing and stuck his tongue out at her.

"If you two are done acting like children," Jack drawled.

"I'm rather interested in how Marley's going to finish her story," Ed remarked, resting his elbows on the table before him and his chin on his interlaced fingers.

"Thank you boys," Marley said with a nod. "Now, as I was saying..."

/*/

"Take the research and wounded on ahead!" I yelled at my minions. "I'll hold them off and catch up later!"

"Doc! You can't be serious!?" Wolf yelled. I glared at him and cut the strap holding his BR to his back, catching it as it fell.

"Dead serious. Now _move it!_ " I snarled as I stared him down. He must have seen something in my eyes because he sighed and deflated.

"Fine, I'll go. But know this: I _will_ be back for you," he said, unclasping his pistols and holding them out. "Try to stay alive until then." I gave him a weak smile that I'm sure did nothing to reassure him.

"Hey, I'm the Doc. I know exactly where to hit for a one-shot kill," I said with dark humor. Wolf snorted as I shoved him. "Now get outta here! My minions are going to need all the help they can get if they're going to survive this," I told him sternly. Wolf nodded, looking at me as though he was burning my face into his memory.

"Your sacrifice shall never be forgotten," he told me before dashing down the hall as artillery fire rocked the base. I could hear the aliens just around the corner and with a final steadying breath, I brought the rifle I'd taken from Wolf and began firing into their midst. They fought back, of course, forcing me to duck behind crates of ammunition the men didn't have time to grab before hightailing it outta there. I picked my shoots carefully, trying my level best to make them count. Needler shot rained down on my position as the aliens bore down on me. Tens fell under my fire but dozens more flooded the hall. By the time five minutes had passed I looked like a macabre abstract piece of art as purple needles stuck out of flat blood roses.

/*/

"You really like that analogy, don't you, Marley?" Dex couldn't help but say. Marley glared at him, arms crossed under her bust.

"Well, it's true! You ever seen a civilian stuck so full of those suckers they look like a pincushion?" she asked.

"No... but I do know that, on average, it takes three to make a full grown man pass out and five to kill 'em. So... how are you still alive?" Dex answered. Marley grinned and sat back.

"Well now, that's what this story is all about, now ain't it?" she asked and everyone else groaned. Marley cackled before launching back into her tale.

/*/

I'm not sure how long I laid there in a slowly freezing pool of my own blood before Director Church found me and I never asked. All I know is one minute I was praying K-Unit had made it out and the next, I was waking up on an operating table with Douchey McEyewear and Freaky Dink Shrink with a PADD standing over me. "Am I in hell?" I asked.

"No, Dr. White," Freaky answered. "You are aboard The Valiant." I remember giving him a bland look before turning to Douchey McEyewear, Director Edition.

"He always sound like he swallowed the children's dictionary?" I asked and I _swear_ I saw Douchey...

/*/

"Can you _please_ stop calling him that?" Al asked. Marley blinked at him owlishly.

"What would you prefer I call him? Director A-hole?" she asked, causing the vast majority of the room to erupt with laughter.

"As funny as it would be to hear you say that over and over, no," Al said. "How about..."

"Agent Whispering Freak?" offered Eagle.

"What? No," Al said. Eagle shrugged. "I was thinking something more like..."

"Okay, I'm just gonna call him 'Mr. D,' okay?" Marley said. "You can fill in what the 'D' stands for yourself."

"I didn't know Church owned a winery. Why did no-one tell me this," Dex remarked with the utmost of seriousness. If he hadn't been making a reference to an old book series, Marley could have been fooled into thinking it had been _Caboose_ who spoke.

"You read _Percy Jackson_?" she asked. Dex shrugged.

"I wasn't the most popular of guys in middle school," he allowed. "Had to fill the void _somehow_." Marley gave him a look before shaking her head.

"Most boys at that age wouldn't turn to _books_ , Dex," she said.

"Most boys that age didn't have Kai as a sister," the man retorted hotly, crossing his arms and giving her a stern look.

"Touche, Dex. Touche," Marley conceded, bowing out gracefully. "Anyway, for Al's benefit, I shall call Director Church 'Mr. D' and you lot can interpret it how you will," she said.

/*/

"He always sound like he swallowed the children's dictionary?" I asked and I _swear_ I saw Mr. D's lips twitch in a repressed smile. Score Marlene!

"The Counselor can be annoying at times," Mr. D allowed, "but he is good at his job so I keep him." I gave McEyewear an assessing look. It may not have been my area of expertize but I could generally get a good read off of people. The fact that I _couldn't_ with this guy set me on edge.

"And why do you need a shrink?" I asked.

"My agents are often exposed to... troubling things," he answered.

That set me _off_ the edge.

"What kind of agents?" I asked, fully on guard and wishing I had the strength to hold a scalpel. Oh yeah, that was _another_ thing that had me uncomfortable: I was doing good to move my face my muscles were so weak.

"While Dr. Hasily is convinced bio-engineering is the answer to the aliens' might, I believe mechanical augmentation would be better," Mr. D said. I quirked an eyebrow at him, mentally cheering at having that much fine control.

"And you need a surgeon for that, yes?" He smirked.

"I wouldn't dream of sidelining you to such a degree that you're _merely_ a _surgeon_ ," he told me. The red flags sprouted bells that began ringing like crazy.

"And what would you have me be?"

"Agent Oregon," he stated proudly. If I'd been able, I would have crossed my arms and given him a death glare. As it was, I gave him the glare.

"And _why_ would I want to be _Agent Oregon?_ " I asked. This seemed to put Mr. D on the back foot and I mentally gave myself a pat on the back.

"Armor, weapons, highly trained team, advanced training, full access to all Freelancer medical facilities, access to some of the most advanced technology in human space, your own room, possibly even an A.I.," he said. I hummed and he felt the need to add the biggest closer ever. Of all time. "And we'll save your life otherwise... well. It would be no trouble to put you back where we found you and let hypothermia and bloodloss take care of you."

/*/

A thunderous crash shook the room as eleven sets of hands slammed into the table r owners stood and the table was sent to the floor. No-one really paid much attention to the fate of the poor table as all eyes were focused on Marley. She stared back and finally, Al spoke. His voice was calm and cool, filled with a frozen rage so cold it _burned_ as he said, "Tell me he didn't." Marley closed her eyes and shook her head.

"He did." A sharp crack drew their attention to Al's hand. He'd just cracked the grip of his BR. A quite growling that had just barely been there grew a little louder as Dex stomped out. Marley blinked and turned to Rick.

"Target practice," he growled harshly, eyes hard like chips of jade. Marley swallowed heavily.

"I just signed Mr. D's death warrant, didn't I?" she asked.

"Maybe not, but he's in for a world of hurt," Ed said tonelessly.

"Wonderful," Marley whimpered, sinking down in her seat.

/?/

A/N: Okay, shorter than I wanted and the ending just kinda ran away with me. I don't know.


	56. Episode 53

Disclaimer: I don't own Red vs Blue.

 **Episode 53:** Training Begins

The next night, after everyone had calmed down; and the canyon gained a new cave; Marley laid out who was teaching what and when. "Okay, while I don't know how much time we have until the next Code Freelancer I've set up a schedule that allows each Phantom to teach what they're good at. Some subjects have more than one teacher and that's so that we can either trade off time slots and students or give better demonstrations. Steel and Hippie will be in charge of Physical Training as well as Close to Mid-Range Weaponry," she said.

"Wait a minute," Dex said as he leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table. "Who's Steel?"

"The former Agent Washington," Marley answered. "He will also be known as Dave." The Rookie Phantom groaned.

"Really?" he asked.

"Yep! To Mr. D and the rest of Freelancer you can be Wash or Washington but to us? You are and shall always be Dave. Unless we're running a mission, then you're Steel. Because of your armor, savvy?" Marley told him with far too much cheer for his liking.

"Just go with it, man. She gets down right _terrifying_ when someone tries to deny her," Ed told him.

"Fine. Not like Dave is too far from my real name anyway," Dave allowed. Marley grinned and clapped her hands.

"Wonderful! Now, Lock will be handling your infiltration training. Due to your more... unorthodox... thought processes he'll just be giving you the basics such as stealth, hacking, and lock picking," she said. Ed grinned and rubbed his hands together like a mad scientist.

"Splendid!" he hummed. Rick chuckled.

"Something tells me I'm gonna enjoy those classes," he said with a wild grin.

"Clear will handle long range and A.I. use," Marley read off.

"Looks like you're going to get a chance to show off, Theta," Jack told the little purple hologram over his left shoulder.

"Yeah," the A.I. remarked, less than enthused. Jack frowned and moved away to give the little A.I. a pep talk.

"I'll be giving _all of you_ medical training," Marley told them, looking up from her PADD to give them all the stink eye. "That means you too, Doc," she growled. Flowdie chuckled and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Nice knowin' ya, man," he said.

"Mep," Doc noised as he sunk lower in his chair.

"I don't remember Captain Flowers being so... mean," Tucker said to Al as Flowdie continued to laugh at the whimpering Doc.

"I dunno man," Al said, shaking his head. "I got a few memory flashes from Epps and what I saw of Agent Florida had him being coldly methodically when it came to his missions," he said. Tucker gave him an incredulous look.

"Seriously? Happy-go-lucky Flowers?" he asked. Al shrugged.

"That's what I got, don't take it out on me if it doesn't make sense," he said.

"Oi, Hippie! You'll be helping me teach them the way we think. The way our strategy and tactics work," Marley called to her partner. Flowdie stepped back from Doc with a slightly nicer sounding chuckle.

"Well _that_ ought to be fun!" he said.

"Yeah... until they start teaching us _their_ methods for dealing with _our_ methods," Marley said. Dex and Eagle began to chuckle darkly.

"Payback," they hissed. Flowdie swallowed heavily and backed away from the two.

"Niner will be covering piloting courses for if you get stranded and need a way out. Dex, Kai, that'll mostly be you two," Marley said. Niner dropped the legs of her chair back down with a loud thump.

"Woah Woah Woah! You didn't mention anything about that to _me!_ Who said I _wanted_ to teach people how to do _my job?!_ " she asked hotly. Marley sighed.

"Niner, I just told you. This is for when they get stranded and need to get away on their own. They don't need to be able to execute a dead drop from five thousand feet with no casualties or escape from three other ships firing heat seekers, they just need to be able to fly without crashing into the ground," she told the pilot. "Now, Dex has some natural talent so he _might_ get to your level... and Kai _may_ have a similar talent when it comes to transports." Niner frowned and looked toward the Grif siblings. Dex gave her a saucy grin and a cheeky wave while Kai bounced on her toes with a wild gleam in her eyes as her hair flew out behind her and her other assets bounced a counter rhythm.

"Well _that's_ going to be fun," she drawled, already thinking of all the headaches those two were going to give her. Tucker gave a shuddering moan while Al went full drama king and face-tabled.

"Don't remind me~!" they both groaned. Niner blinked, watching the two blues' distress.

"The heck?" she muttered in befuddlement.

"Oh, Dex and Kai are the main drivers for the Blood Gulch Crew. Al and Tucker are just remembering that one time they stormed a Freelancer Command Station and pranked the whole place then Dex and Kai had to be the getaway drivers. Ah~! Good times, go~od times!" Marley said. Niner gaped at them while Dex busted out laughing.

"Oh yeah! Now that _was_ fun! Hey hey! You remember when Eagle busted out the glitter rounds?!" he said.

"Oh oh! Or when _Washington_ asked for _rainbow_ glitter rounds?!" Rick contributed.

"HA! What about when Kai pulled that insane stunt with the rock?" Eagle asked.

"I... actually wasn't there for all that," Tucker said.

"Ah, you missed out!" Eagle declared.

"I was thinking about more recent antics. Like our fight against the Phantoms," Tucker continued.

"Okay, I'm sensing some _serious_ stories here," Niner said with a grin as she rested her chin on her crossed arms.

"Oh, they haven't even scratched the surface., Niner," Marley told her. "Lopez will be teaching you the basics of mechanics... unless you ask him for more in-depth lessons. And then _all_ of us will be teaching wordplay and mind-bending, okay?"

"You... you serious?" Dex asked, eying all the Phantoms warily. Marley's grin was all the confirmation he needed. "Well this ought to be interesting," he moaned.

"Let the training... begin! Blue team, you're with Steel and Hippie. Red Team, you're with Lock. Doc... you're _mine~!_ " Marley said with sadistic glee. The Reds and Blues swiftly vacated the room with their trainers while Doc wilted under Marley's evil stare.

/*/

Tucker wasn't too sure about training with Steel and Hippie. Sure he'd known Hippie as Captain Flowers and Steel didn't seem _too_ bad but... he'd heard a few stories and had dealt with the man during that whole 'civil war' thing. He was under no illusions that this was going to be easy. "Alright, I have no clue where you lot are in terms of training so... we're going to start with some sparring," Steel said. "Tucker, you're with me. Hippie, you have Caboose. Al... think you could spar with Kai and send the data to me afterward?" Al stared at the Phantom before turning to Kai... then looking toward where Lock was instructing Red Team.

"Swear you'll protect me from Dex if I accidentally hurt her?" he asked. Steel looked toward where the Red Agent was training against a computer and sighed.

"I'll do my best but I think you'd be better off getting Kai to talk to him," he said. Al shrugged.

"True enough, I guess," he said, "I'll do it." Kai, knowing in the back of her mind that Al was really a robot and that nothing she hit him with would really damage him all that much, swallowed nervously.

Yep, this was _not_ going to be easy.

/*/

Dex knew computers weren't his strong suit but he knew he could pick locks back on Earth. The tricky part would be picking a _computerized_ lock. "Dangit!" he snarled as he got locked out again. "How many times is it now?"

"Forty-two," Lock drawled. Dex snarled and shook his head like a mad dog.

"Crazy smart computer locks and their stupid hard encryption!" he growled. Rick chuckled from where he was working his way through his sixtieth firewall.

"This isn't too bad!" he said. Dex glared at him.

"You got set to the _computer hacking_ , Rick. Not the holographic locks!"

"Bias," Eagle grunted as he got locked out as well.

"I agree! Lock is clearly biased toward you! Why else would he set you to working on something you're already good at?" Dex said. Red grumbled, still fiddling with an antique lock.

"Oh, would you all stop complaining and just _work_?" Lock asked wearily. Eagle and Dex shared a look before giving the Phantom a bland stare.

"We are working, idiot," they said as one, Rick chuckling in the background. Lock tilted his head with a confused sound.

"But..."

"HA! Finally!" Dex cheered, popping the lid on his test box. Lock blinked and Eagle crowed in victory, popping his own lid open.

"How?" the Phantom asked weakly.

"We're Red Team. Logic need not apply," Rick said, breaking his sixty-seventh firewall.

"Right," Lock said, taking a step back and giving his head a shake. "Rick, you've got that down well enough, take Eagle's box. Eagle, take Rick's place at the computer and I'll reset it for you." These orders were met with groans and reluctant shuffling before the Reds settled back to work, a few muffled curses making their way out when one or the other failed and had to start over from the beginning. Lock smirked under his helmet. "Ah~! The sound of misery. Love it~!"

"I hate you," the Reds growled out with varying heat.

Lock laughed at their misfortune.

/*/

Black felt her eye twitch and very nearly _physically_ held herself back from _slapping the idiot_ in front of her. "That's. Not. How. That. _WORKS!_ " she snarled. Doc flinched back like he had some many times before she couldn't even find _amusement_ in it anymore! It was driving her _nuts!_ "Okay. Okay. Let's take it from the top," she said, rubbing her temples.

"I... I'm not..." Doc began haltingly, fearful of his trainer.

"I know you flunked out of med school," Black said flatly. "I know you went to Jamaica State. I know you failed your MCAT. I just don't _care._ " Doc swallowed heavily as burning eyes turned to him. "What _I_ care about... is my team. You, for better or for worse, are _attached_ to my team. So! You either learn what you signed up for or you go back on your morals, your ethics, your code of conduct, _whatever it is_ that keeps you from _consciously_ harming another living being and learn how to shoot. Learn how to _kill_." Black took a deep breath and sat back. "At first, I didn't understand _why_ someone would join the army as a contentious objector. I didn't like those people... because I considered them liabilities. Dex still does. Now... now I understand that there are kind people who just want to help, to find a peaceful resolution. There are kind people who can't stomach that kind of violence but can handle patching up those who _can_. I'm not too sure where you fall in those categories... but as you are you're the kind of 'contentious objector' that I can't stand because you _are_ a liability. You can't even tell a hypodermic needle from an intravenous! You can't tell me what the difference is between penicillin and acetaminophen! If I asked you to name the major arteries in the human body..."

"What's an artery?" Doc couldn't help asking. Black threw up her hands in a wordless cry of frustration and rage.

"HOW DID YOU EVEN GET INTO THE UNIVERSITY TO BE _KICKED OUT!?_ HOW DID YOU _REGISTER_ FOR THE MCAT?! TRULY, IT _BOGGLES THE MIND!_ " she ranted. Doc cowered and gave a small whimper. Seeing this, Black forcefully reigned herself back in. "Fine. We start from the basic of basics and work our way up. Every morning from now until Carolina gets here, you're working with _me_ from sun up to two. I expect to see significant improvement, you hear?" she told him. Doc nodded fearfully and pulled a notebook from nowhere. Black huffed and turned her back so he wouldn't see the smirk on her face. 'Looks like he's learning something after all if he can manage that trick,' she thought as she started what she called her baby lessons.

/*/

Steel wasn't too surprised he wasn't having trouble with Tucker. What surprised him was that he was having more trouble than he'd expected. While by no means an expert or even a threat, the cyan soldier was forcing Steel to use more of his strength than he'd anticipated. "Getting tired?" he asked lightly while blocking a decent jab to the face and slipping out of the way of the other man's uppercut that was aimed for his gut.

"You?" Tucker shot back but Steel could hear the strain in his voice. Steel stole a look at his other students. Al and Kai were still trading blows but it looked like Al was on the defensive. Whether that was because Kai was that much better or because of the A.I's fear of her brother was up for debate. As for Caboose and Hippie...

"YOU HIT LIKE A FUDGING OX WITH ALL THE ACCURACY OF A FRIGHT TRAIN!"

… Yeah. Steel was leaving that can of worms alone as long as he could. "Alright, team! Let's call it for now!"

"OH THANK THE MC!" Hippie shouted, diving away from a wild punch and rolling to his feet. A blank gray visor suddenly filled Steel's vision, causing him the stumble back slightly. "Never pair me with him again, or what I did to South will look like child's play," Hippie hissed. Steel swallowed, remembering the one and only time Florida had pranked someone on the Mother of Invention.

That one prank _ended_ the _ship-wide_ prank war.

Take that how you will.

"Agreed," Steel _didn't_ squeak. Hippie nodded and backed off with a slight bounce in his step. "Next time, it's Al vs Caboose and Hippie vs Kai!"

"WHY DO YOU HATE ME?!" wailed Al, dramatically falling to his knees.

"You're an A.I. in a robot body. He can't hurt you," Steel reasoned.

"THIS IS BLUE TEAM! LOGIC NEED NOT APPLY!" Al yelled, hopping to his feet and shoving his orange visor into Steel's gray one. "Also, this is _Caboose_. Reason need not apply either," the Alpha A.I. added coldly. Steel sighed and wished he could actually rub his forehead to relieve his budding headache.

"Don't argue, please? My decision is final," he said. "Now, Tucker, I noticed that you're pretty good at dodging and you can throw a decent punch, but it's obvious to me that unarmed isn't your strong suit."

"He's pretty good with that energy sword he found in an abandoned base," Al added. "You should test him on that."

"Thank you," Steel said then turned to Hippie. "Anything to say about Caboose?"

"He'd give anyone trouble," Hippie stated. "Even though he has no accuracy or or style, the sheer strength and unpredictability of his hits make him dangerous."

"Good to know. Al, how about Kai?"

"Marley was training her for a while," Al said. "So, she doesn't suck. Her guard is okay and she's got decent accuracy but she's lacking some power." Steel nodded, deciding he'd ask Marley for a more in-depth report on Kai's fighting capabilities.

"Okay, so the biggest things seem to be strength, accuracy, and speed. We'll start with strength today. Al, you and Caboose can run speed drills with Hippie," Steel decided. He was the only one to hear Hippie moan.

/*/

Lock stared at the computer, too stunned to think. "You killed it." Oh. Looks like he could still think. Or was that the shock talking? Red laughed sheepishly.

"Oops?" Dex chuckled darkly as he popped open the analog lock for the seventieth time.

"I hope you've learned something from this, Lock," he said. "Red's terrible with anything more complex than a shotgun."

"I'm perfectly capable of running maintenance on the Warthog!" Red protested.

"Yeah, with Lopez helping!" Dex countered.

"Dex... Red _can_ actually maintain a vehicle. Maintenance and upgrading are two different things," Rick said calmly.

"Fine. I'll amend my previous statement. Red's terrible with anything that requires coding," Dex allowed.

"Th-here ya go!" Rick cheered, popping his twentieth holographic lock. Lock sighed.

"Let's... call it a night, shall we?" he said as he got to work on the test computer. The Reds cheered and hurried over to where the Blues were being put through their paces. Lock could have sworn he saw popcorn and betting books. "Why did I agree to stay with these nutjobs?" he moaned.

"Because they're interesting?" Clear said, coming to stand beside his fellow sniper.

"Clear... ever wonder if _we're_ the mad ones?"

"Lock, I _know_ we're the mad ones," Clear said with a smirk.

/*/

Black let out a long, slow breath and walked away. She was done. She couldn't deal with this guy any longer. Maybe she should just write a book and give it to him. Or get Dex to teach him. Teaching was a good way to learn after all. Reinforcement and all that. "Uh... Agent Black, ma'am?" Doc called. Black didn't turn around. If she did, she was fairly sure she'd start ranting again. "I... I'm sorry." She bit her cheek. If he said... "I really am trying." That. Dangit! How could she turn him away after _that?_ She sighed.

"Fine," she said then proceeded to keep walking.

"Ma'am?" Doc asked.

"I'm gonna write you a book. When you're done with the book, then we'll talk," Black said, finding a decent middle ground for herself. "In the meantime, learn how to use a knife."

"But..." he protested weakly, half reaching out to her as though he could convince her to let him stay untrained.

"And no backtalk!" Black snapped, knowing without looking what he was up to. It was a skill all Phantoms had to learn and one she was actually looking forward to teaching.

"... I'll talk to Rick," Doc muttered softly, turning on his heel and walking toward where the Reds were laughing at the Blues.

/?/

A/N: Okay, so it's really short and there's little to no zany antics. I'm sorry! It's just really hard for me to write training! Up next: "How do you guys know each other anyway?" "Well, it all started many moons ago..." "Ah great, there she goes with the dramatic voice again." "Shush! I'm telling the story!"


	57. Episode 54

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB.

 **Episode 54: How They Met**

After Steel and Hippie were done running the Blues ragged, and once Rick had gotten himself under control after being asked to train Doc how to handle a knife, the worn trainees gave their mentors expectant looks. "What, you want another story?" Marley asked.

"How do you guys knew each other anyway?" Rick asked. Dex nodded, spinning a chair around and sitting in it backwards.

"I'll admit I'm curious as well," he said before resting his chin on his forearms.

"And don't just say, 'through the project'!" Kai added. "I want juicy details!" Eagle hummed as he copied Dex and fixed an intent stare on the senior Phantoms.

"Well, it all started many moons ago..." began Marley. Flowdie moaned and leaned back, baring his throat.

"Ah great, there she goes with the dramatic voice again," groaned Ed.

"Shush! I'm telling the story!" Marley snapped. "I met Flowdie first. Of course, when we met, he was just That One Guy in the Corner Dressed in ODST Armor."

"Wait," Flowdie cut in, flinging himself forward to lean across the table toward Marley, " _that's_ what you called me in your head? Really?" Marley nodded with a smirk.

"Pretty much! Never said I was the best at naming, now did I?" she asked. Flowdie smiled and shook his head with a rueful chuckle.

"No. No you did not," he allowed.

"It was my third day aboard the Valiant when I noticed a newcomer sitting in the corner, servicing his rifle. Of course, this wasn't an uncommon sight so I didn't really pay it much mind. Later that day, I saw him again. Still in a corner. I mentally labeled him Corner Guy. The next day, I saw Corner Guy in better light... but still in a Corner."

"Okay," Rick cut in, leaning one arm on the table and propping the other up to wave Marley to a stop. "I need to know... is Marley exaggerating or were you really in the corner a lot?" he asked Flowdie.

"The first few times I saw her, I was in a corner," the man admitted with a slight blush.

"You do realize that was just encouraging her bad naming, right?" Rick asked. Flowdie glared at the man who sat back with hands raised in deference. "Just say'n, man."

"Might I continue?" Marley asked, eying the men with amusement.

"Nothing more to add, your Honor~!" Rick sang. Marley nodded regally toward him.

"Thank you. Now where was I?"

/*/

It was my third day aboard the Valiant when I noticed a newcomer sitting in the corner, servicing his rifle. Of course, this wasn't an uncommon sight so I didn't really pay it much mind. Later that day, I saw him again. Still in a corner. I mentally labeled him Corner Guy. The next day, I saw Corner Guy in better light... but still in a Corner. This time though, I was introduced to him by a mutual friend. Oddly enough, this happened to be Georgia. "Hey! Oregon! Come meet my new friend, Florida!" the green armored man-child called. I groaned but then noticed he was sitting by Corner Guy.

"So, you do have a name," I remarked drily as I walked over, giving Florida a rather pointed look. I'll admit, I was a bit miffed that he still had his helmet on. I wanted to see his face!

"Of course I do," he remarked brightly, though somehow managed to make it sound reserved at the same time. I'll admit, I was impressed.

/*/

"Me too," grunted Dex. "There's a reason I called the guy 'Hippie' before I even knew 'em."

"Yeah, the guy's just too perky on a daily basis for me to think 'reserved' when I heard his name," Rick added.

"Really?" Wash asked, leaning forward. "Because I always think 'methodical' and 'ohMCplease don'tlethimbeafterme!' when I hear his name."

"That's because you were the newbie near the end of the project when I was fully Secret Agent rather than a Sim. Trooper where I was oh so happy to move away from the stifling presence of the Director and the creepy lurking of the Counselor," Flowdie piped up. The other Ex-Freelancers nodded in solemn agreement.

"Those two were freaks of human nature, I'll give you that," Marley said with a shudder.

/*/

Moment of awe past, I smirked. "And wit!" I remarked. "I'll need to look out for this one. He might steal my spot as Top Snarker!" Georgia laughed at that, as I recall.

"I doubt that! Florida's just a little shy right now. Give him a week and he'll be the poster boy for positivity!" the man said.

"And you're friends with him... why?" I asked.

"Because he does, as you put it, have wit," Georgia declared, serious once more. Corner Guy, now known to have the codename Florida, shook his head at us and started polishing his knives. I watched him, curious about this newcomer. Georgia just stood there like the awkward goof that he is and kept looking between the two of us, like he was expecting something.

"Right. I can see you've _very busy_ , so I'll be leaving. Perchance I'll see you around later, Florida," I said before leaving the awkward situation.

/*/

The Reds and Blues stared at her. "That _can't_ be all there is to the story," Dex declared. Marley shrugged,

"That was our first meeting. It took a lot to overcome the awkwardness but once we did... He drove me nuts," she said.

"And she drove me to distraction," Flowdie countered.

"Oh, now how did I do that?" Marley asked, appearing genuinely confused. This was off putting because everyone knew how good an actor Marley was... and none of them could tell if she was faking or not.

"Well, how about I tell the story from my point of view?" Flowdie offered. When no-one objected, he began.

/*/

I was an ODST, had been for two years by that point. What place did I have in a top secret government project? Those feelings got stronger when I met Georgia. The man shared my specialty... but he did it _better, harder, faster_ than I ever could. I just wasn't built for massive power. So... why was I here? While Georgia did his best to befriend me, I stood back and observed. That was when I noticed the spunky Agent in gunmetal green and dark purple armor. The others treated her as one of their own... but then, so did the medics. It was an interesting mix. Then I saw her when one of the Agents came in with a limp and I knew I had it _bad_. I also knew why the medics saw her as one of their own. Amongst all the medical jargon were threats about what she'd do if the man didn't start taking better care of himself. They were highly creative and non-damaging. I paid more attention to her after that. When I realized she was noticing me too it nearly undid me. I decided to play it cool and act like I was uninterested in... pretty much everything.

/*/

"Dude... you suck at story telling," Dex remarked dryly. Flowdie gave him a Look.

"Shush! I haven't got to our first conversation yet," he barked.

"Conversation? You two barely shared ten words!" Kai protested. "And here I thought you two would have a grand love story! I feel gypped." Dex patted his sister comfortingly on the back and glared at the ex-Freelancers, silently telling them they should be ashamed of themselves. He was remarkably good at it and that painted a bleak picture of his childhood when they thought about it so no-one did because it was depressing and they had enough nightmare fuel in their own heads thank-you-very-much.

"It's... more romantic on my side," Flowdie maintained. "Marley just doesn't like to admit that there was anything between us."

"Because there wasn't and there shouldn't have been!" Marley declared.

"But there is now," Rick pointed out, nodding toward their intertwined hands.

"I'm... more stable now. And Freelancer isn't hanging over our heads. As far as the world knows, we're dead. It's a rather freeing feeling," Marley said.

"Right... I could argue the 'stable' bit but I don't feel like it," Dex drawled, sitting back in his chair and propping his feet up on the table. "Can we get on with the story now?" he asked.

"Very well, Dex," Flowdie said, kissing Marley's knuckles before returning to his story. "Georgia, curse him, figured out my fascination with Oregon and decided to speed things along. He called out to her and I nearly froze. She prowled toward us like a hungry panther..."

"Seriously? A hungry panther?" Marley asked, giving the man an incredulous look.

"So I'm not as poetic as you, give me a break," Flowdie protested. "Anyway, she came over with her helmet tucked under one arm. 'So you do have a name,' she said, giving me a rather pointed look.

'Of course I do,' I managed to squeak out. I must say, I'm rather proud to discover that she didn't hear it as a squeak."

"Oh, I knew it was a squeak once I heard you reaming out Georgia," Marley said. Flowdie's face turned the same color as Red's armor. "Oh, don't be embarrassed! Lots of initially shy people squeak the first time they speak to a new person." Flowdie moaned and covered his burning face with his hands.

"That wasn't why I squeaked," he moaned. Marley cackled and smacked him on the back.

"I know, I just enjoy your misery~!" she sang.

"Dude... why are you in love with her?" Al asked. A loud _clack_ rang out as the legs of Eagle's chair fell back to the concrete and the man himself leaned forward to give the A.I. a bland stare.

"Tex," he stated. Al made an odd strangled sound and fell back.

"Withdrawn," he squeaked. Eagle smirked and returned to his kicked back position, waving a hand toward Flowdie in a 'continue' motion.

"Thanks... I guess," the former Freelancer said. Eagle gave him a remarkably regal nod in response. "Anyway, the rest played out as Marley said until she walked away. That was when I unloaded on Georgia before dragging him to the practice room. I'm proud to say I trounced him and he left us both alone for a good long while after that."

"Wait, you were the reason he was a walking bruise tiptoeing around on eggshells for two weeks?" Marley exclaimed.

"Now you see why the guy scares me," Wash said with satisfaction while eying the surprised 'Simulation Troopers.'

"Wait," Rick said, regaining his not inconsiderable wits. "What was Georgia ranked?"

"Eh, I think he was... tenth at that point?" Marley said.

"Yeah, I think so," Flowdie agreed.

"Georgia was a good soldier," Ed stated with a nod.

"Wait... that's _it?!_ " Kai exclaimed. Flowdie shrugged.

"Well, I did go out of my way to see her more after that. I... honestly can't remember how we became friends but somewhere along the way... we did. Then Marley got... weird."

"That was when my visions began," Marley stated blandly. Everyone winced.

"Guess thinking you're going insane would freak anyone out," Rick said.

"I am so sorry," Al whispered, hunkering down in his seat. "I have a feeling I was behind that, somehow."

"No. How could you have known the future?" Marley asked. Al inclined his head and gave her that point.

"So... what about Wash?" Kai asked.

"I met her near the end of her time with the Project," Wash said.

/*/

I hadn't known the Project had a second ship. The Valiant was older than the Mother of Invention, which might explain why there were so little personnel aboard, and I had been sent to retrieve an Agent Oregon. "Hey, do you know where I could find Oregon?" I asked a passing soldier wearing green and purple armor.

"Have you checked a map?" she asked. "It's right between Washington and California." I stared at her, my face heating, before shaking me head frantically. I did not need that mental image! "Oh wait... you're Wash, aren't you?"

"Yeah," I croaked out. She hissed and patted my shoulder.

"Guessing you know Cali?" she asked. I nodded she hummed, patting me a little more. "Sorry, Wash. I thought you were just being funny. And you can stop looking for Oregon, I'm right here." I managed to stop my shaking long enough to give her a betrayed look.

/*/

"Is that what that was? I thought you were getting dizzy from all that head-banging," Marley remarked. Wash gave her an annoyed look.

"It was betrayed. You could have just said you were Oregon without giving me that horrid mental image and now it's back and twice as scarring. Why do I do this to myself?!" Wash said, thumping his head down on the table with a pitiable moan. "I hate you all."

"So... what happened next?" Kai asked.

"Well, after I managed to compose myself, I told Oregon why I was looking for her," Wash said.

/*/

"Ah~! Two-man retrieval mission eh? Cool. Hope you know how to handle yourself in a fight mister Washington, because I don't like patching up idiots!" Oregon chirped in a mildly unsettling manner. Something about the woman made me nervous. It was only after the mission, and an unnecessary amount of screaming and laughing from Oregon, that I realized what it was.

"You're a Mad Medic, aren't you?" I asked dully, watching her sew up a Trooper while humming a far too cheery tune.

"I'm a surgeon, thank-you-very-much," she countered, tying off the thread. "And I'm not mad, exactly. Just a little... cracked. Then again," she stood and 'dusted' herself off, "everyone in the Project is, to some degree."

"I don't..." I tried to protest. She turned to me with soulful eyes that seemed to stare into my very being.

"It's all a matter of masks and acts, David. All a matter of masks and acts," she stated.

/*/

"And I'll admit, I didn't want much to do with her after that mission. Hearing she went MIA was almost a relief," Wash finished. Marley shook her head.

"And he always struck me as the 'sweet' one. Ah~! Life~! How cruel you are to me~!" she 'lamented.'

"HA! Wash, the sweet one?" Dex barked.

"I'd have said Ed," Eagle remarked. Marley shrugged.

"Ed and Jack were the Big Brothers of Project Freelancer. Dave was the 'little brother' figure," she said.

"And you?" Rick asked.

"I saw myself as the crazy aunt of the bunch," Marley answered easily. The men thought this over, then nodded their acceptance of that classification.

"So, what was the meeting like on your end?" Rick asked. "Something tells me _that_ meeting was after the visions started." Marely hummed and closed her eyes.

"You're right, which makes it a little... jumbled," she told him. "It had been a rough night. The visions had been... brutal. If it had just been dreams I would have laughed but... I knew they were real. That even if they weren't happening now, they would. Still, I had no way of knowing if these events were happening in real time or not. Aside from there being no Agent Texas that is."

"So you did know," Tucker cut in. Marley shot him a glare and he sat back, properly chastised.

/*/

I'd just started seeing 'flashbacks' in my visions the night before. To say I was shaken would be something of an understatement. None of that had happened yet, viable jetpacks were still in development at that time, and I didn't know what to think. I was wandering the halls of the Valiant, trying to ground myself in reality, when I saw him. Agent Washington. The Agent that seemed to attract killer cars and was plagued by paranoid cynicism. "Hey, do you know where I could find Oregon?" he asked me. He looked like Wash... but he didn't _sound_ like him. He was too young, too bright. I couldn't help playing a joke on the rookie.

"Have you checked a map?" I asked with a smirk. "It's right between Washington and California." The man stared at me as though I'd just said something horrible before shaking his head viciously. "Oh wait... you're Wash, aren't you?" I asked with a wince, the term 'rookie' fading to be replaced with 'traumatized veteran' in my mind once more.

"Yeah," he croaked out. I hissed and patted his shoulder, knowing I couldn't let him know that I'd already known. He couldn't find out that I'd seen his future. Still, I'd need to remember that joke. Maybe some day it would be appropriate.

("NEVER!" "Shut up. It could!" " _Boys._ " "Shutting up!")

"Guessing you know Cali?" I asked. He nodded I hummed, patting him again. Cali could be... a bit of a handful.

("A bit?" "Story for another time, lads. Story for another time.")

"Sorry, Wash. I thought you were just being funny. And you can stop looking for Oregon, I'm right here." I said. Wash stopped shaking his head. As I said before, I thought it was because he was getting dizzy. After a few minutes for Wash to compose himself, he told me about the mission. I was fairly excited to tell the truth. I could feel my face threatening to split in half from the force of my grin. "Ah~! Two-man retrieval mission eh? Cool. Hope you know how to handle yourself in a fight mister Washington, because I don't like patching up idiots!" I said. I could tell from Wash's posture that he was unsettled but I didn't care. I wanted to see him in action! We got the the planet and reality lost all meaning. Past. Future. Present. Here. There. They were just words. Flashes of lasers, the boom of grenades... that was real. That was there. Colorful figures danced around the edges of my vision and I paid them no heed, throwing myself into the mindless fighting. I laughed, I screamed, I bellowed my challenge to the heavens and fought like one possessed. Then we reached our mission objective and reality snapped back into focus. Blood, fear, pain, the very real possibility of death and failure drew me back and it was such a _relief_ that I hummed a happy little tune as I stitched the Trooper back up.

"You're a Mad Medic, aren't you?" Wash asked dully, watching me. I was very tempted to laugh but held myself back.

"I'm a surgeon, thank-you-very-much," I countered, tying off the thread. "And I'm not mad, exactly. Just a little... cracked. Then again," I added sardonically as I stood and 'dusted' myself off, "everyone in the Project is, to some degree."

"I don't..." Wash tried to protest. I wasn't sure what he was going to say, but I knew it would be some naively optimistic ideal. A sardonic smirk tugged weakly at my lips as I gave him a dead look. I had no clue what he was seeing in my eyes and I didn't care. I just wanted him to understand that what I said, I considered truth.

"It's all a matter of masks and acts, David. All a matter of masks and acts," I stated, the weight of my own masks nearly bowing my shoulders. Still, I had to keep up the act that nothing was wrong, that I didn't know he was going to loose his sanity and have his faith in humanity _shattered_.

/*/

Wash was staring at Marley in unabashed shock. "You... were trying to _protect_ me?" he asked.

"I'm still waiting for the jumbled bit," Dex remarked drily. Marley glared at the man.

"I'm beginning to think I ruined you, Dexter," she drawled. He grinned and for some reason, Marley felt like something was missing.

"Am I the only one who thinks he should be chewing on a toothpick?" Ed asked, canting his head slightly. Marley threw up her hands with a cry, confusing the Sims.

"Thank you!" she exclaimed. Dex quirked an eyebrow... then pulled a toothpick out of nowhere and stuck it in his mouth before retaking his previous stance and drawling,

"Ya haven't ruined me yet, Marley!"

"I feel like this is a reference to something... but I don't know what it is!" Chi growled, rather put out by that fact.

"I think it's a general thing, like a trope," Doc said. Marley blinked at him.

"Since when were you genre savvy?" she asked. He blinked back, looking just as puzzled as Marley.

"What is 'genre savvy?'" he asked.

"Ack!" Rick called, crossing his arms and poorly imitating a game show buzzer from the early two thousands. "One doesn't necessarily have to be genre savvy to know about tropes, Marley, it's just that most people call them 'cliches' instead." The Phantom thought this over, then nodded in acceptance.

"Fair enough," she allowed. "Are there any other stories you want or are we calling it a night?"

"I'm tired. Later," Dex declared, hauling himself up out of his chair and spinning toward the door.

"You barely did anything today!" Kai protested. Dex scoffed and gave her an unimpressed look.

"When Steel had enough and sent you over to Niner he turned his attention on Red Team," he said. Kai winced. She may not have been the sharpest tool in the shed, but she could understand that Steel wasn't one to pull his punches, especially if he knew his 'training partners' could take it.

"Withdrawn," she allowed. Dex smiled and ruffled her hair as best he could with it still pulled back in a tight braid.

"Love ya, lil sis," he told her warmly before stalking out of the meeting room. Rick chuckled and rolled his shoulders before following a silent Eagle out as well.

"See you in the morning~!" the tech sang, a hint of weariness seeping into his voice. Marley nodded.

"Yes, I think it would be best if you all went to bed. We've a full day tomorrow," she said.

"We'll get to hear more about how you guys know each other later... right?" Kai asked. Marley gave her an all-too-sweet smile.

"No promises~!" she sang before turning on her heel and striding deeper into the subterranean base. Kai sighed but knew she wasn't going to get anything more from the Phantom.

"Good night," she muttered morosely before following her brother's example and making for her base. Marley was right; they had a full day of training in the morning.

/?/

A/N: Confession! This did not go the way I wanted but every time I re-read it I see nothing that I could change to make it better. Next chapter is titled 'Obfuscating... Oh Wait, He's Just That Stupid.' Shout out to whoever guesses who the chapter's going to be focused on! Hopefully I can write him properly... Should be Fun!


	58. Episode 55

Disclaimer: I don't own Red vs Blue.

A/N: Shout out to Freerunner4427! You weren't wrong... but you were only partially right. Originally this was going to be Caboose centric but then... it morphed. How you enjoy it!

Warning: This is focused on the general insanity that is the Reds and Blues. Like, more so than usual.

 **Episode 55** : Obfuscating... Oh Wait, He's Just That Stupid

Everyone knew the Blood Gulchers were insane. This was accepted fact. Still, there were times the Phantoms thought the Troopers were just trying to throw others off guard. Like when Eagle knew exactly what had happened with Church and Lopez or when Caboose came up with a plan to infiltrate Command. And then there were those moments that reminded them... these guys were the bottom of the barrel and it was a miracle they were still alive, let alone the one who took down several top-tier Freelancers. "Do I want to know?" Butch Flowers, also known as Flowdie or Hippie, asked warily when he walked into Blue Team's kitchen to see Caboose's head stuck in the freezer.

"Flowdie... not even we know," Al told him seriously. Steel walked in, saw Caboose's head in the freezer, and turned to Flowdie.

"How did he do that?" Steel asked, pointing toward the aforementioned Private. Flowdie shook his head and turned to walk out the door.

"Ya know what... this is on you guys," the Phantom declared. "Pull him out of there and meet in the yard. Training starts in twenty."

"Yeah, sure," Al said, waving the man out while turning to regard the stuck Private. "Man, how do you do this to yourself, Caboose?" Flowdie heard the smart A.I. mutter as he made his way out the door, dragging Steel with him.

"What just happened?" the youngest Phantom asked.

"Don't dwell on it," Flowdie told him. "Al will have Blue Team out here in twenty minutes." Steel sighed and slumped, wondering how this had become his life.

/*/

Ed stared. Eagle ignored him and continued pouring neon orange glitter into a rather large mixing bowl filled with lock-down paint solution. "Is that how you make it stick so well?" he finally asked the sniper.

"Not always," the burgundy armored man said easily, pulling a bottle of glitter glue from seemingly nowhere and tossing it at the more experienced sniper. "Alternative measure." Ed blinked and stared at the happily grinning cow on the label.

"This... is Elmer's," the Phantom remarked, stunned.

"Yep," Eagle said, now loading Brute Shot rounds with the lock-down-paint-glitter concoction.

"How on earth does this mess with our sensors so bad?! And why is it so hard to get rid of?"

"Dunno, but it worked. Had Dex complaining for _weeks_ ," Eagle said, sounding far too smug for the situation. Ed stared at him for a moment before waking out, shaking his head.

"You really are insane," the man muttered, missing how Eagle grinned at his back, capping the glitter bomb in his hand.

/*/

Niner couldn't understand the BGC. One moment Red seemed to hate Dex's guts...

 _"Shut yer mouth 'fore I fill it with lead, Dirtbag!"_

 _"Oh yeah?! Well, excuse me for having my own thoughts!"_

... and the next he's following the weapons expert's orders.

 _"RED! Take the right flank!"_

 _"Roger that!"_

Eagle was treated like an innocent little brother for the most part...

 _"You're too far forward. Put more weight on your back leg."_

 _"Thanks, Rick."_

... and then he pulled out a grenade or his rifle and everyone hit the dirt, yelling at him not to do anything crazy.

 _"Whoa!"_

 _"Easy! We don't want casualties!"_

 _"Aim at Blue Base!"_

 _"Hurt my sister and I'll bury you so deep it'll take an archeological dig to find your twisted remains."_

 _"Don't unleash the Orange Destroyer!"_

 _"DUDE! WHEN DID_ YOU _GET OVER HERE?!_ "

 _"WHY ARE WE YELLING?!"_

Lopez would be speaking perfectly understandable English...

 _"And then you twist it a half turn to the right."_

 _"Why don't they teach it like this in Basic?"_

 _..._ and then _something_ would set him off, his voice chip would crackle, and he'd start ranting in monotone Spanish and pull out a wrench looking for all the world like all he wanted to do was brain someone with the tool.

 _*FFFIIZZZZZTTT * "Lopez?"_

 _"Esos idiotas no saben nada sobre cómo tratar las máquinas. ¿Sabes cuántas veces he tenido que volver y volver a hacer los trabajos de parche de Red? ¡El hombre es un completo imbécil! Y no me hagas comenzar con sus inventos."_

 _"... Ah... I don't speak Spanish."_

 _"... Merda."_

 _"Okay, that one I understood."_

Rick was the cool, collected one who could program anything and was a dab hand at mechanics...

 _"How did you manage to set_ this _up?"_

 _"We had a few spare wires, more than enough guns, a couple motors, and a decent computer. It wasn't all that hard."_

 _"... You do realize you pulled an Ironman with those bits and bobs, right?"_

 _"Flattery will get you no-where..."_

 _..._ but then there would be moments when he started ranting...

 _"I learned that the hard way with Red."_

 _"Eh?"_

 _"The psychopath. I looked up to him! I took notes! He was going to teach me how to be a leader! And then he constantly tore me down! He abused me! And Dex! Oh~! Don't get me started on him! If he was such a great leader, why did he act like a slovenly mess?! Would it have killed him to keep his side of the room clean? Ten minutes! If that! Just ten minutes to make your bed and pick up your clothes. Is that too much to ask? Ten minutes to sweep and mop the living room. Ten minutes to sweep and mop the ramps. Twenty minutes to wax the warthog. Seriously! It's not that hard! And I don't ask for them to do it all by themselves! Just, ya know,_ help out! _But no. Not even_ Eagle _will help without orders to do so! Explicit_ orders _! And then, when I actually have input on one of Sarge's harebrained ideas, he calls me insubordinate! And the inventions! Good Lord, the_ inventions! _Anyone ever tell you about the robot and the ten megaton bomb? What about the_ weather control device that ran off of D batteries? _The one he built into Lopez? Heh. Heh heh. Hahahaha! Yeah,_ that _was a mess and a half. And it wasn't. The. Worst. Oh no! That was just the last straw. The last, Master Chief dratted,_ straw! _We could have splurged. It would have been such a tactical advantage. We could have summoned cloud cover, a breeze... do you have any idea how sweltering hot Blood Gulch was? It was hot! I nearly passed out from heat stroke ten times! In the first month!"_

 _"..." *edges away slowly *_

 _"UGH! The crazy psychopathic Sergeant even had the gall to consider turning me into a cyborg. As if that would make me a better mechanic! Would it? NO! If anything, it would probably make me_ worse! _Darn psychopathic Sergeant. Why can I never have a normal Sergeant?"_

 _"I'm not a psychopath!"_

 _"I ought'a fill yer insubordinate mouth with lead!" *Dex looked at Red for a moment before throwing up his hands and walking away with a gruff..._

 _'Ugh. Withdrawn. Have at 'em,' while Rick growled and picked up a heavy monkey wrench. *_

 _"It's your fault I lost the last dregs of my sanity you psychopathic, deep-fried, Southern, blood-crazed, jarhead idiot!" *Rick threw the wrench at Red, the heavy tool clanging against the titanium alloy helmet. Red began to back away as Rick continued to bellow insults and recount incidents that had chipped away at his sanity that could all be traced back to the Sergeant which chucking anything and everything he could get his hands on at the man. Niner quickly turned on her heel and vacated the premises. *_

… and no-one really enjoyed when Rick got started on a rant. It usually resulted in damages and a big mess of scattered... everything.

And that was just the Reds!

Al seemed like a sensible A.I. for the most part...

 _"And that should have you patched into UNSC communications lines with no-one the wiser. You're welcome."_

... but then he'd come up with these insane plans that shouldn't work but did.

 _"How on earth did you get Dex through the caves? He hates caves!"_

 _"I told him Kai was waiting for him at the other end. With Tucker. He couldn't run fast enough."_

 _... &..._

 _"Caboose_ hates _needles! How did you get him to take his shots?!"_

 _"It's amazing what he'll do when promised cookies and orange juice."_

Tucker seemed normal as well. In fact, he might have been the sanest person on Blue Team...

 _"Well done. You're pretty good with that sword of yours."_

 _"I've had to be."_

 _"What does that mean?"_

 _"I... don't like talking about it. I'm sure you understand."_

 _..._ and then he'd do something inexplicably odd. Like that time he'd burst out laughing for no apparent reason.

 _"Oi, you got any mayonnaise in this dump?"_

 _*Tucker went very still... then began to chuckle. * "Mayo?" *He broke into full-on cackles. Mad cackles. Al shook his head with a groan. *_

 _"We have a lot of mayonnaise, Mr. Jackman! Because crock-pots are stupid. Who wants a crock-pot when they can have a mystery box?"_

" _Mystery... box?"_

 _"Yes! The lady on the phone was very nice. She sent someone to switch them out! And then we had mayonnaise!"_

 _"Remind me to cancel our long distance plan."_

 _"But then I wouldn't be able to talk to those nice eight-hundred ladies! And then we wouldn't be able to have nice things!"_

 _"Eight-hundred ladies?"_

 _"You actually call those eight-hundred numbers you see on TV?"_

 _"They are nice people! Not like you. Stupid Tucker."_

 _"I am_ so _canceling our long distance plan."_

 _"Do that and I use your body for target practice."_

 _"DUDE!"_

 _"Junior."_

 _"... Fine. There has to be_ some _way I can keep this idiot from calling eight-hundred numbers."_

Seriously, what was that about? And how could an A.I. like Al have such horrible aim?

 _"That was_ literally _two feet in front of you. How did you miss?!"_

 _"Huh. So that targeting error_ didn't _get fixed after our raid on Command. I'll have to talk to Rick about that."_

 _"This has happened_ before?! _"_

 _"It's a persisting issue."_

How did Eagle's twisted piece of metal actually effect Al?

 _"OW! Would you stop hitting me?!"_

 _"I would if you'd start behaving like a proper sniper. Again."_

 _"I'm done."_ *THWACK _* "OW! What was that for?!"_

 _"Too slow. Again."_

What was _wrong_ with Kai?

 _"And then there was that time..."_

 _"STOP! Kai! What have I told you about embarrassing the family?! Besides, that's the past and you're not going to do things like that anymore. Right?"_

 _"Chyeah. Right."_

 _"_ Right?! _"_

 _"Ugh. Yes."_

 _"Good. Now go clean your room."_

 _"How do you..."_

 _"I'm your big brother. It's my job. Go. Room. Clean._ Now! _"_

 _"Ugh, fine!"_

How did Doc get a medical license?

 _"AS YOU ARE NOW, YOU ARE AN_ INSULT _TO THE MEDICAL COMMUNITY! I SHOULDN'T EVEN LET YOU_ LOOK AT _MUCH LESS_ TOUCH _MY MEDICAL SUPPLIES!"_

 _"I'm trying!"_

 _"I KNOW! AND THAT'S WHAT'S SO FRUSTRATING! YOU'RE TRYING AND I CAN'T DROP KICK YOU INTO NEXT WEEK LIKE I WANT TO BECAUSE OF IT! NOW RECITE THE EFFECTS AND POSSIBLE REACTIONS OF AMOXICILLIN!_ "

How did _any of them_ make it past _childhood_?!

 _"He drank gasoline."_

 _"You told me it was lemonade!"_

 _"And you believed him?"_

 _"They also told me there was ice cream!"_

 _"Again, you believed_ him _?!"_

 _... &..._

 _"Well, there was this time at camp..."_

 _"We do not speak of camp."_

 _"*MUMPH!*"_

 _"S~H~U~S~H~! What happens at camp, stays at camp."_

 _... &..._

 _"Wasn't a whole lot to do on the farm."_

 _"Where are you_ from?! _"_

 _"Iowa. My dad's family owned a cattle farm. We even grew our own hay. I hated that old baler."_

 _"Old baler?"_

 _"Yeah. Thing was an antique but dad still used it. Thing nearly took a few fingers every time we turned it on."_

 _"Why didn't they replace it?"_

 _"They did."_

 _"Then... ?"_

 _"After it blew up and nearly took my head off."_

 _"Oh..."_

 _"Umm."_

 _... &..._

 _"Shut up, you're not my dad!"_

 _"He's the closest I've ever had."_

 _"What?"_

 _"Yeah. My parents abandoned me when I was ten."_

 _"Dude..."_

 _"I lost the house within a week. Lousy creditors."_

 _"Uh... Doc?"_

 _"Hey, are those cookies?"_

 _"Uh... yeah. Eagle's... on a weird... baking spree. You...? A~nd he's gone."_

 _... &..._

 _"WHOO! That was wild!"_

 _"You kidding? That was mild compared to what my friends and I used to get up to in middle school."_

 _"Seriously?"_

 _"Yeah. Man, we had so much fun."_

 _"... I feel like I should be worried."_

 _... &..._

 _"This is nothing, you little sissies! I was jumping trains and mixing Molotov cocktails at seven!"_

 _"I should be surprised... but I'm not."_

 _"Now get back to work!"_

 _"How do trains and Molotov cocktails apply to running an obstacle course?"_

 _"Shut up and run. Maybe he'll stop talking."_

 _... &..._

 _"Man, Red's harsh."_

 _"I'm used to it."_

 _"That's... not actually reassuring, Rick."_

 _"In fact,_ everyone _at my high school was worse. Thought about killing myself a few times."_

 _"DUDE! That is_ not _okay!"_

 _"I'm over it."_

 _"THAT'S NOT SOMETHING YOU JUST_ GET OVER _!"_

 _"Seriously, I'm over it. Can we move on now? Before Red decides to regal us with more train hopping escapades?"_

Really, it boggled the mind that the Reds and Blues had lasted this long. And these guys weren't just idiots out in the canyon, no! They were idiots in the bases _and_ in the caverns! Honestly, Dex could handle bats no problem, they didn't pose a threat to him, so why was he so afraid of them?

Truly, Niner had no clue how these guys had survived. Part of her thought that they were playing it up, intentionally making it so people would underestimate them; obfuscating stupidity was the term, right? And then they'd do something incredibly stupid and genuinely see no problem with it and Niner would be right back where she started, wondering how they had survived so long and been so successful.

"One day, people are going to look at what you lot have done from a historical standpoint and marvel at a rag-tag group overcoming such odds and they're going to build up this image of you guys that fits their perception of soldier and heroes. When that day comes, I sure hope they never meet you lot in real life, or get a hold of any security footage of you, because that would kill any respect they might have for you and shatter their world views," Niner finally said. Dex laughed and threw a heavy arm around her shoulders.

"Niner, that's exactly why we're so effective!" he said. "We have a reputation that's built on accident, we subvert all expectations, shatter worldviews, and then clumsily beat our opponents with the shards of the reality they'd held so dear."

It really said a lot that Niner believe every word from the man's mouth with every fiber of her being.

/?/

A/N: I... had an idea... and then it turned into this. Take it how you will. Up next: Where They Split.


	59. Episode 56

Disclaimer: I don't own Red vs Blue.

 **Episode 56:** Where They Split

The Phantoms gathered in the underground base, all three teams: the Strike Team, Red Team, and Blue Team. They'd been training hard for the past two days, and Niner was close to having a mental breakdown, so they all felt it was high time they had story time. "Ya know, it was actually the Valiant that I met Marley on," Flowdie remarked.

"So... how did you end up on the Mother of Invention?" Rick asked, resting his chin on his crossed arms which rested on the back of his chair, the tech having decided to emulate Dex for the moment and sit backwards in his seat. Flowdie hummed and the flashback began.

/*/

"Go on Flowdie. It's a big chance for you. Just go," Oregon told the cyan agent. Florida, also known as Flowdie, sighed, hanging his head ( _I didn't want to go_ , Flowdie recalled. I _t wouldn't be the same_ ). Oregon sighed and tugged off her helmet so he could see her face. "Flowdie... The MoI is where all the big shots are. Carolina, New York, Wyoming, Maine, Washington. I even heard that Agent _Texas_ was slated to go to the MoI!" she pressed. ( _It was like she was trying to push me away._ **Try nothing. I** _ **was**_ **pushing you away.** _You know you love me._ **Just tell your story, Flowers.** )

"There is no Agent Texas," Florida groused( _I actually glared at you. I guess you couldn't tell._ **Should have wiped your visor. You still had ODST armor at that point.** _Fair enough)_. Oregon sighed.

"That's not the point, Flowdie!" she moaned. Florida fought to keep his amusement down. Oregon had a way of cheering him up without even trying.( **You... are a mad man. No normal person would find this uplifting.** ) "The _point_ is there this is a _good_ thing! You're going up to the big leagues! The Freelancers that spread our name! Just _go!_ You'll have better back up there anyway."

"Not better than you," Florida pouted, looking away. ( _I really loved you, even then._ **I was a poor choice for romantic partner at that time.** _You came around, and it was certainly worth the wait._ ) Oregon sighed, shaking her head.

"Carolina, Flowdie! Carolina! And Maine! New York! Wyoming! CT! Washington! Those guys are the greats! How could they _not_ be better than me?" she asked. Florida chuckled.

"Easy. They're not you," he said. Oregon scoffed.

"That... was _so_ cheesy Florida. I think you just surpassed American Velveeta!" she exclaimed. ( **One word and I put you through** _ **hell**_. 'Understood ma'am.' **Good**.) Florida chuckled, then pulled his helmet off and kissed her. It was so sudden, Oregon couldn't react.

"'S what I was going for, my dear," Florida said, eyes twinkling merrily. Oregon scoffed, slammed her helmet back on, and turned her back.

"Don't do that again, Florida. You might loose your tongue," she growled, her helmet altering her voice to sound more like Agent Minnesota. Florida shrugged.

"Totally worth it," he said, putting his own helmet on before he left for re-deployment.

/*/

Marley sighed and glared at Flowdie. "Now I'm remembering that kiss and my lips are tingling. Thanks a lot," she groused. Flowdie stared at her in shock for a moment, then grinned and pulled her in for a sudden kiss. Catcalls echoed in the concrete base but Marley paid them no mind, lost in the new-familiar feel of Flowdie's slightly chapped, warm lips as they met hers, that same electric tingle running through her just as it had all those years ago, lighting up her nervous system. "Your kisses are a medical mystery," she moaned when Flowdie finally released her. He chuckled, low and deep, eyes half lidded and lips quirked up in a smug half-smile.

"If I'd known you'd remembered that kiss for so long and so fondly, I'd have kissed you far sooner, Marley," he fairly purred. Marley's eyes snapped back open and she sent him a glare that could have curled paint.

"Don't push your luck, Flowers," she growled.

"As you wish," the man demurred, though there was still wicked mischief in his eyes. Ed sighed and leaned back.

"Because Marlene White just can't be normal," he remarked. Marley chuckled humorlessly and thus, the second flashback of the evening began.

/*/

Marlene White _had_ been normal.

Agent Oregon, admittedly, had been slightly less so.

Agent Black is most decidedly abnormal. And it isn't just the fact that she's a former Agent for a top secret organization. It isn't even the experiments the Director had done to her that made her consider herself abnormal. (*She studiously ignored the tensed muscles and threatening growls from her boys. It was the past and there was nothing they could do about it. So why get so worked up about it?{She also studiously ignored that little voice telling her that _you would do the same in their position. You'd rant and rage and tear down everything that man built because_ _ **he dared touch what was yours**_ _and he_ **hurt them** _in ways that were never meant to happen_.}) No. It was the visions. The visions of Sim. Troopers that had danced behind her eyes, burning themselves into her brain, that were decidedly _not normal_. They made her laugh and scream and thrash in her sleep. For two years, she saw these visions every time she slept. And then, she heard that Agent South Dakota had blown a stealth mission to a frozen oil rig and been saved by Agent Carolina. That was when she came to a painful conclusion. Her visions told the future and they painted a rather bleak picture for the Agents of Project Freelancer. That was when her mission began.

She was going to make sure her visions came to be in the best possible way and she was going to save as many lives as possible along the way.

/*/

"Marlene White is dead, killed when Agent Oregon was born. Agent Oregon is too, having vanished into the dark void of space when the stark reality of what she knew hit her. So what was an abnormal ex-soldier, ex-army surgeon to do? Left alone in the vast reaches of space, Agent Oregon remade herself. She found an armor crafter and put in a special order. Soon, it was ready. Pitch black, sleek, cloaked in every possible way and with advanced sound dampening technology. In the cold and the dark, from blood and fear, Agent Black was born. In the cold and the dark, I remade myself from fear and blood into the woman I am today," Marley said, refusing to look at her team, old and new alike. She knew her story, her brokenness, wasn't anything new to these men; and Kai, but it wasn't pretty. Marley wasn't ashamed of herself, exactly, but she was a bit self-conscious about her scars, about the ugliness of her current self and the path that had brought her there. Flowdie scoffed and the Reds shook their heads, even if Marley wasn't looking at them to see their dismissive gestures.

"You're still Marlene White," Dex said firmly, showing the leader she'd helped him develop into.

"You're still Agent Oregon," Rick added calmly, a testament to the progress Marley had made in treating his girl-phobia.

"Yer just a little more than them," Red stated gruffly, revealing his more caring side that the doctor had tried her best to foster.

"Marlene White is the doctor in you," Eagle told the woman flatly, focused blue eyes tracking each twitch in her shoulders and belaying his training as a sniper.

"Agent Oregon is the soldier you rely on," Tucker said softly, as though he was just realizing it himself, and displaying the talent for tactical thinking Marley was itching to draw out and polish to a blinding gleam.

"Agent Black is the combination of the deadliest parts of yourself," Flowdie said with a gentle smile, his tone and expression at odds with the mildly sadistic implications of his fond remark.

"And that's okay," Al put in bluntly with the sardonic snarky tone he had become known for.

"Because we're all made up of broken parts," Steel added with a wry smirk, remembering once again when he'd first met Oregon.

"And we know the kindest parts of you are still there," Ed said with a grin, alluding to her saving them all, in one way or another.

"We can see them when you're just Marley," Jack said, kicking back in his chair and grinning at her like he used to grin at South back when they had still been on good terms.

"Yelling at us to get our skits together," Dex told her with a chuckle and a fond smile.

"When you patch us up after training gets a little too rough," Doc said, a little sheepish since he knew that was supposed to be his job.

"Mostly because of Rick or Dex," Eagle remarked with a pointed smirk.

"Just because you're too slow to get out of the way..." Rick muttered mutinously while Dex chuckled sheepishly and gave the burgundy sniper an only mildly apologetic smile. Marley blinked at them all before her face split into a wide grin.

"You guys..." she muttered, shaking her head fondly at them all.

"Aw! You know you love us!" Dex cheered, bouncing up and around the table to sling a heavy, armor plated arm around Marley's neck.

"That reminds me... there's more to that story," the woman in question said, expression lightening considerably. Once everyone had settled back down, Marley smiled gently at them all. "Everything changed for me in an instant, the instant I heard about Blood Gulch. I knew of the Sim. Troopers Project Freelancer had set up around the galaxy, but this outpost was special. This outpost would grow to be a legend. Or at least, it's Troopers would. And I knew it. I knew it all. It was what made me take up the mantle of Agent Black in the first place, those memories. The show that played in my mind night after night, light humor masking the darker, heavier aspects of the Sim. Troopers lives. The events had been practically burned into my memory, but search as I might, I hadn't been able to find any trace of Blood Gulch Outpost Alpha. Or One. At the time, I couldn't seem to remember. But then, it didn't really matter, did it? Not in the grand scheme of things. The more I thought of Blood Gulch, the more I wanted to go there. Right away. But what would I do there? Would I train the soldiers, make them into the heroes and leaders they were on Chorus a bit earlier?"

"Ya know... I think I've heard about this Chorus place before. What's so special about it?" Rick asked, honestly confused. Marley froze for a moment before shaking her head with a weary expression.

"It's a SANFU and a half, Rick. And one that we'll be dragged into sooner or later. It's... actually what I've been training you for, to a certain degree," she admitted. "I won't... can't... tell you more right now but... I will tell you this. Even without my training, you would have likely made it out. Not unscathed, and certainly not without losing even more of your sanity, but you all had a very good chance of living through it... aside from Epsilon who willingly fragmented himself to run the Meta's suit and all of its enhancements to give you lot the best possible chance of survival." Everyone, even Caboose, was solemn at the revelation.

"But... you have trained us," Tucker said after a moment of deep contemplation, looking up from the table to look directly into Marley's eyes. "You are training us," he stressed, determination filling him and straightening his back. "We're not the same Sim Troopers you saw in your visions. We can make it through that war without loosing anyone."

"You're right... just like I was right about Dr. Marlene White and Agent Oregon being dead," Marley said, taking a good portion of the wind from Tucker's sails. "You're not the same... but you're still Lavernius Tucker, Micheal J. Caboose, Dexter Grif, Richard Simmons, Franklin Doughnut, Sarge, Kaikaina Grif, and David. Not to mention all the _dead_ Freelancers in the room. You're different, yes, but at your core... you're still _you_."

"It's why I couldn't be afraid of you, Dex," Kai said softly. "I knew it was you, my big brother, and that while you had changed... you were still you and my Big Bro could _never_ be dangerous to me." Dex sighed and sagged in his chair for a moment before he shook his head and stood up swiftly, amber eyes burning fiercely.

"After we get Epps back, you're telling us _everything_ you know Chorus. Don't leave out a _single_ detail. Things are going to be different this time around, they probably already are, but some knowledge is better than going in blind," he declared, his words quivering with determination. Marley nodded, a little awed by what her meddling had done to the man.

"I was planning on doing just that, Dex," she told him, getting a nod in return as he sank slowly back into his chair, still ramrod straight. "Well anyway, I decided I couldn't train you to be the heroes of Chorus at the beginning. I couldn't force that kind of growth. Then a thought occurred to me. I couldn't just drop in and start training you, or making you all work together, but maybe I could do it sneaky like. Take you on field trips to help save the rest of the Freelancers or take out the last remnants of hostile aliens. I knew I'd have to do it one by one, to keep it secret, and it'd be easier if I only did it to one team. I smirked under my helmet as my choice became clear.

Red Team.

You guys didn't seem to naturally attract as many crazy adventures as Blue Team. Oh you got dragged along, but Blue Team had all the _real_ drama. 'Look out, Red Team of Blood Gulch. Agent Black is in need of assistance and Agent Oregon has nominated you,' I'd said to myself, plotting a course for the lonely box canyon inhabited by what would become the greatest team of soldiers in the galaxy. And that's when the story of Project Red began," she finished. Dex snorted, lips quirking up in a shadow of his familiar smirk.

"Nearly gave me a heart attack when you picked me up that first time," he said. Marley grinned at him.

"Only the first time? Man, I must be slipping!" she said. Dex chuckled and shook his head.

"Nah, you _really_ gave me a minor heart attack the second time. And the first time you pulled Maroon and I for the same mission? I'm sure you shaved a few years off my life," he said, smirk back in full force.

"I'm sensing another story here," Jack said, eyes flicking from the orange Agent to the humming Doctor.

"A story for another time, I think," Marley said, pulling back with a thoughtful look on her face. "I... need to get my story straight. Disjointed information can be as dangerous as flying blind. Besides... it's the darkest of my visions you're asking for." Immediately, the room was as grave as death.

"I'm sorry, Marley, but we need that intel. If any of the Phantoms in space have information on the current situation on Chorus, we're going to need that too. Once you have the information from your visions worked out, could you contact them?" Dex said seriously. Marley sighed and gave him a wry smile.

"Told ya you'd be great, Captain Grif," she said before vanishing deeper into the base. Dex stood there for a moment longer, frozen as realization crashed over him.

"Holy fire," he breathed, gaining curious looks from the others. "She mentioned that she'd known a Grif before, the day she first picked me up," he explained. "I had no reason not to believe her. She told me he was a good man. Lazy, rude, and a total slob, but a good man. A good captain. He helped end a civil war, giving hope and strength to young, inexperienced soldiers." Realization was hitting the others at this point... except for maybe Caboose. "I just realized... _I'm_ the Grif she 'knew.' She was talking about her visions!"

"Ooh~! That makes much more sense," Caboose said, far too pleased.

"I just _know_ I'm gonna regret this but... more sense than what?" Al asked.

"Marley confusing Dex with his father!" Caboose said, throwing his arms out wide. Everyone blinked at him.

"That... actually wasn't as confusingly illogical as I'd expected," Dex admitted.

"Yeah... that almost made sense itself," Tucker said, still staring at the simple soldier.

"Am I the only one confused by how _not_ confusing the words that came out of Caboose's mouth were?" Rick asked.

"No. You most certainly are not," Niner told him, staring at the one she'd decided was the most insane of the bunch in complete and utter shock. Caboose, as usual, was completely oblivious to the effects of his words and was instead quietly happy with having made sense of some small part of the world.

/?/

A/N: Darn it! Caboose and Marley are being difficult and Ed was having none of it so he's barely in here! Ugh. I just couldn't make this longer so sorry for the shortness. I have a feeling much of this 'season' is going to be similarly short.

Anyway! Next up: PAINTBALL! The Second.


	60. Episode 57

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB.

 **Episode 57:** PAINTBALL! The Second

Looking over the tense Troopers and irritated instructors, Marley had a brilliant idea. "OI!" she called, catching their attention quite nicely.

"WHAT!?" Dex bellowed back.

"I PROMISED YOU A PAINT MATCH ONCE THE ILLUSION WASN'T NECESSARY, RIGHT?" Marley reminded him.

"YEAH, BUT WE KINDA WENT AHEAD AND DID THAT WITHOUT YOU!" Rick yelled.

" _WHAT_!" Suffice to say, Marley wasn't all that pleased. "I DEMAND ANOTHER MATCH! THREE WAY! STRIKE TEAM VS RED TEAM VS BLUE TEAM!"

"Wait..." Eagle's voice drawled through the comms. "Who are the Strike Team?"

"Me, Lock, Clear, Hippie, Speedy, and Sis. Although, Speedy won't show up for a while so Niner will take her place. Doc can go where he'd like," Marley answered. "Steel is with Blue Team."

"Why is Sis on the Strike Team?" Dex asked.

"Because we're the kind to sow chaos behind enemy lines with hit and run tactics. Plus, I'm mentoring the girl. And it makes the teams more even," Marley drawled.

"I will accept that reasoning," Dex allowed.

"Eagle! You're in charge of making sure there's enough ammo for the teams. I ask that you make a single color for each team. Glitter is not allowed. I'm not sure how you do it, but any glitter you touch is ten times harder to get rid of than normal, pain-in-the-rear glitter," Marley said, addressing Eagle directly.

"Roger Roger~!" the sniper sang with evil glee.

"You have unleashed a monster, Marley," Al 'breathed.'

"I told him not to use glitter," Marley defended.

"Yeah... but he supplies Caboose and Dex with glitter rounds. Dex _might_ leave the glitter in the crate but Caboose? I'm not so certain about _him_ being so considerate," the A.I. pointed out. Marley sighed.

"Okay... but why tell me this _now_ instead of earlier? Or later when I give him free reign?" Marley asked.

"You're going to give him free reign?!" everyone asked in horror.

"Chorus," Marley intoned and at once, the previous tension was made to look like two little kids fighting over the same toy. Marley swallowed uncomfortably at the suffocating feeling. "You guys don't even know what's really going on there!" she said.

"It made you serious. It could cost me a brother. You considered it bad enough to _train us for it_. You just told us you were going to give Eagle free reign in that conflict. Forgive us if we treat it like another Project Freelancer," Dex declared, Red Team nodding behind him. Marley smirked wryly.

"You've grown so much, Dex," she said with a quite, rueful chuckle. "Makes me wonder if I didn't force my vision onto you even as I tried to avoid it."

"Ah, enough philosophy," Dex huffed, waving a hand dismissively as he walked toward Red Base. "It's strategy time. AL! Same rules as last time! Keep Kai out of my path if you can 'cause I ain't holding back!"

"Roger that!" Al called back, guiding the rest of his team into Blue Base for their own planning session.

"Well, I guess we need to figure out who's going to be leading the Strike Team," Flowdie said.

"Who knows the 'enemy' tactics best?" Marley asked.

"You or Flowdie," Dave said instantly.

"Rock paper scissors?" Flowdie offered.

"Nah. You're the tactician. You lead," Marley pointed out. With good grace, Flowdie accepted.

/*/

Two hours later, the three team leaders and their seconds met in the center of the valley to retrieve their ammunition from Eagle. "And there's no glitter in these... right?" Flowdie asked, just to be sure.

"Cross my heart," Eagle answered, pushing the Strike crate toward the man. "Two clips per gun per member."

"Thank you. Half hour grace period to return to your teams," Flowdie said, Marley grinning as she took control of the crate.

"This... is gonna be _good~!_ " she sang. Dex laughed.

"You and I have very different ideas when it comes to 'good,' Black," Al muttered mutinously, also taking his team's crate.

"See you through my scope~!" Dex called as he walked away, Eagle chuckling at his back.

"Let's get this back to base," Steel said, moving to help Al maneuver the crate, "I'm suddenly having second thoughts about our strategy."

"Why do you say that; Marley's cackles or Dex being in charge of Red Team?" the A.I. asked.

"Both," Steel responded evenly. "And Hippie being in charge of the Strike Team."

"Really? Hippie?" Steel gave Al a look then sighed, shaking his head.

"Hippie was the one who assembled you all in Blood Gulch, Al. The worst of the worst in the most unremarkable box canyon in UNSC space, a dead end pit designed to hide you. Who would look for the most advanced A.I. apart from CORTANA in a place like that?" he explained. Al was... not as surprised as he thought he'd be.

"Wow. The only new information there was that H _ippie_ selected us," he said. Steel shrugged.

"Fact remains, you only found that out _now_ ," he said. "What does that say about Hippie's planning skills?" Al faltered and Steel knew he'd made his point.

/*/

Doc watched in shocked awe as the Teams took their positions. Hippie in a tree, Clear on a ledge, Lock in the bushes, and Niner edging along the canyon wall while Black faded out of view and Sis lurked in the cave opening. Al was on top of Blue Base, Caboose was on the ramp; almost hidden by the shadows, and Tucker followed a foot behind Steel as they moved toward the center of the canyon, no doubt searching for the other players. Over at Red Base, Burgundy was scaling the canyon wall, making good use of his Burgundy armor as he made his way to a perch, Red was staying back on the ramp, Lopez was moving out to meet Steel and Tucker head on, Maroon was setting up paint mines, and Dex had vanished. Exactly half an hour after the three teams got their ammo, Steel swung his gun to the left as something caught his eye. A split second later, a splotch of blue paint decorated the grass while Steel's helmet was engulfed in orange. "Oh skits!" Tucker wailed, throwing himself down and rolling behind a nearby bush as Dex de-cloaked.

"Run run run, you can't escape me, I'm the Orange Man~!" the Senior Agent sang spinning his gun and giving the cyan trainee a chance.

"Shoot him! Shoot him!" Hippie barked, shooting slightly ahead and behind the blur on his sensors. Dex cackled and avoided each shot as he returned fire. * _FWOOMPH!_ * * _THUD!_ * "Kill stealer!"

"Sniper~!" Eagle sang, already moving to a new vantage point.

"Ow," moaned Hippie, reaching a shaking hand toward his locked up knee.

"Shut up," Dex growled, shooting the Phantom in the head before stalking off, cloak re-engaging as he moved.

"He's gone!" Clear growled.

"I'm going for the flag," Black informed them.

"Heehahahah~!" Maroon laughed and the ground below Black exploded in maroon paint, taking her out of the match.

"Ho-man, they're really kicking our butts," Caboose muttered.

"Say good night~!" a soft voice purred in his ear before he felt his armor lock up. "Oops. Now you can't," the voice said before the Pilot Lady came into his view, heading inside. Hearing Niner had taken Caboose out, Hippie and Black both grinned viciously while Lock and Clear shivered.

"Remind me not to get on her bad side," they said as one.

"Girl power!" Sis cheered... before she was taken out by a burgundy round to the face.

"And then there were three," Burgundy broadcast on an open channel. Clear took a shot at the opposing sniper, then cursed when he saw nothing but painted rock. A second later a burgundy shot got him in the back as he tried to move to a new position. "Two."

"One," Dex declared over Tucker's moan.

"I count it a win that I lasted this long!" Lock declared. "Wait... what about Niner?"

"Her? As soon as she finished off Al she got a face of paint," Burgundy revealed.

"I'm coming for you, Lock~!" Dex sang.

"I'm worried."

"You should be~!"

/*/

"Something tells me this wasn't the way you saw this going," Doc remarked as the three Teams gathered to clean their armor.

"My boys~!" Marley sang, slinging her arms over Dex and Eagle. "I'm so proud of you~!"

"That was humiliating," Steel stated.

"Yeah, because you were the first taken out!" Dex crowed.

"We're having a second round," Marley declared, slipping down from where she'd hung between the weapons expert and the sniper of Red Team and striding confidently over to the Strike Team.

"Whatever you say, Agent Black~!" Dex sang, eyes sharp and smirk dangerous. The other two Teams shuddered, remembering that he'd taken most of them out himself. A fifteen minute grace period was issued and the snipers got back in position. This time, Lock was with Niner while Clear was with Sis. Caboose was sent to the cave and ambushed by Dex. Just like the first time the Reds and Blue had a paintball match, the weapons expert executed a quick, efficient, and brutal takedown.

"Geeze Orange, brutal much?" Black muttered, watching the Blue go down with paint on his shoulder, knee, and head.

"He's a Human Tank, Black," Orange answered, already moving in search of a new target.

/*/

Burgundy was scanning the canyon walls carefully, searching for the Strike Team's sniper or snipers. He spotted a sliver of cyan and quickly calculated where Hippie's head would be before swiftly placing a round in the likely area. The lovely, almost perfectly round, blob of burgundy and the aggravated yell were enough to tell Burgundy his math had been correct. "Ya moved, Hippie," he called, already sliding further back on his ridge to, hopefully, take him out of range of the remaining snipers.

"BLACK! YOU TRAINED THAT ONE TOO WELL!" Hippie roared.

"Ah. No. That one would be on Lock," Black answered. "And his own natural skill with the weapon. Honestly, I'm not too sure how he got sent to Blood Gulch when he had such potential as a sniper."

"I am of the opinion that you warp reality to fit your perception."

"Hippie... that made no sense."

"No no. It makes perfect sense," Al interjected. "She thinks things should be a certain way, and so they are."

"I think therefore you are?" Black asked. Burgundy shook his head and took out Al.

"HEY!"

"Distractions make for dead men," the sniper drawled, moving locations, ejecting the spent shell, catching it, and stowing it for later re-use.

/*/

Red and Maroon tag-teamed Steel; Maroon leading him right into Red's range; before moving on to Clear and Sis in the Cave. Red hollered and caught their attention while Maroon slipped in and swiftly 'slit' their throats with his twin paint knives. "Sis and Clear down. Three Strikers left," the tech called in.

"Roger. Cyan remains. Keep a weathered eye," Orange replied. Maroon grinned.

"Can I take him? Swordsman to swordsman?" he asked. Orange chuckled.

"Have at em, Maroon. I call Black," he answered. Everyone was startled when Maroon let out a wild yell before vanishing as completely as his armor would allow. "Valhalla rest Tucker's Blue soul," Orange stated in to the stunned silence.

"I hate you, Orange," Tucker moaned a moment before the sounds of combat filtered through the link.

/*/

From his vantage point Doc watched with a grimace as Maroon uncloaked right in front of Tucker, knife already headed for the Blue's neck. Tucker was fast enough to get his modified paint sword up to block it but the unfamiliar weight made his return strike sloppy and allowed Maroon to slide under it and score a hit on his thigh. Seeing the maroon paint on his cyan armor Tucker breathed out thanks that the titanium alloy was strong enough to protect him from a hit like that. Maroon took advantage of his distraction and drove his knife into the relatively unprotected back of Tucker's knee, locking up his leg. A moment later and maroon paint was dripping down Tucker's neck. "Blue Team neutralized," Maroon called in. "Striker status?"

"Stand by," Orange whispered.

"On the Hunt," Red declared. A soft rustling sound followed by the discharge of a sniper came from Burgundy's channel swiftly followed by an enraged bellow.

"ARE YOU FUDGING KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW?!"

"Niner down," Burgundy remarked rather unnecessarily. Maroon chuckled and began making his way toward the center of the canyon. Not even five minutes later Red and Orange met him, each looking quite satisfied.

"I trained you lot _too_ well," Black groused. Orange laughed darkly.

"Sure you didn't just underestimate us?" he asked. Black growled and Orange just chuckled.

"Seriously, how did we beat _both_ teams _both times?!_ " Rick asked, looking at the Strike and Blue Teams in confusion, helmet under his arm.

"You got lucky," Niner groused.

"Blue Team I can see, but we wiped out _both_ of you! The Strike Team didn't even get to Strike!" Rick continued.

"Alright, alright, no need to rub it in their faces Rick," Dex said calmly. Rick gave him a mutinous look.

"Kill joy."

"Kill-stealer. We're even," Dex stated dully. Eagle snickered at the pair.

"Well, I feel better about trusting the fate of a planet to these guys," Ed said.

"Agreed," Steel muttered, eyeing the Reds in consideration.

"I say we have a day of paintball every week or so. All in favor say 'aye,'" Marley said, painfully lifting an arm. All of Red Team and the snipers, except Al, gave affirmative 'ayes.' "Motion carried. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna have a bath," the First Phantom said, making her was stiffly down into the Caverns. Dex nodded and helped Kai to her feet before guiding her toward Blue Base. Slowly, the others disassembled back to their own areas and called it a day.

/?/

A/N: I... honestly hadn't noticed that I had Red Team taking _everyone_ out until Rick mentioned it. Yikes! Guess I did train them a little too well. Also, I may be biased. Just a little. Let me know what you thought and give your suggestions for what the Reds and Blues will get to to next and/or who you think should have won those paintball matches.


End file.
